


Survival of the Fittest - The Beginning

by Blueskydancers



Series: Survival of the Fittest [1]
Category: Lord of the Rings RPF, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Originally Posted on LiveJournal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-27
Updated: 2013-04-27
Packaged: 2017-12-09 15:34:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 62,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/775848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blueskydancers/pseuds/Blueskydancers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A new type of flu appears, spreading across the world with ease. For those who have been exposed to the illness, there are only two possible outcomes.  A desk bound MI6 agent, and his unexpected companion, race against those responsible for the plague, to reach the one person who may hold the hope for the future of the world in his hands.</p><div class="center">
  <p> </p>
  <p>    <img/></p>
</div>Banner by the lovely Liriel1810
            </blockquote>





	1. Day 12: 24 May 2003

**Author's Note:**

> Betaed by the amazing Silvan Lady - thank you so much!

“You are aware that your ill-judged decision to test with live subjects, without proper security, has thrown the whole programme into disarray and wasted countless billions of dollars in funding?”

“Yes, sir, I am fully aware of the consequences.”

“I don’t think you are.” Derek MacQuillan starred at the scientist until he had to drop his gaze. 

“I am complicit in the deaths of more than a hundred people. I think that alone demonstrates how committed I am to this project,” the scientist protested.

MacQuillan made a negating gesture with his hand. “I’m not talking about the loss of those men or the collateral damage in the village. Guinea pigs of that nature cost little and are easy to replace. Of much greater importance is whether you have covered your tracks. I'm sure I don't need to remind you what a delicate point our research has reached and the possible loss of revenue that would ensue if the virus was allowed to spread unchecked.” 

“The village was isolated with few inhabitants. Once we had tracked the escapee there I deployed a clean-up team. They eliminated anyone left alive.”

“Left alive?”

“Yes. The test subject had already run amok, killing a number of people and we terminated the rest.”

“What then?”

“Then we razed the village to its foundations. Fortunately there was some unstable high ground behind the village so we were able to fashion a landslide to cover the remains. No one will be interested and even if they are, the evidence is buried under fifty feet of earth and rubble. It will look like a tragic accident.”

“Good.” 

The scientist began to breathe more easily, confident now that he had escaped relatively unscathed and that his lucrative position was safe.

“How have you checked to ensure that all the villagers were accounted for?”

“We questioned the survivors, before termination, to ensure that no one had left the village.”

“What about follow up?” MacQuillan snapped.

“Follow up?” the scientist stammered.

“Yes, you fool. What steps have you taken to ensure that the virus hasn’t spread any further?”

“We assumed that we had wiped out any potential carriers and therefore that it wasn’t a possibility.”

“You’re not paid to make assumption! You’re paid to run this programme according to my instructions.” MacQuillan pursed his lips and then shook his head. “I think the only assumption you can make now is that you are no longer required on this project. Ensure all your notes are up to date and pass them over to your second in command.”

“But, sir, it was only a single error.”

“Yes, but compounded by your inability to control the test subjects or follow procedure.” I will not discuss this any further. Get your things together and be ready to leave the project within the hour.”

His shoulders slumped in defeat, the scientist headed towards the door of the conference room. Once he had left the room, MacQuillan beckoned to the chief of security standing in the doorway. 

“Yes, sir?”

“Make sure he passes over all his notes on the project; then terminate his contract.”

“Of course, sir.”

Waving the man off, he sat down at the solid oak boardroom table. Finally, he jabbed at a button on the intercom sitting just in front of him. “Contact Viggo Mortensen again. I must have him heading up the project. Offer him whatever salary he requests. He is to be here, ready to work, by the end of the week.”

“But, sir, whenever we approach him he refuses our offers,” the voice queried.

“This time, I don’t care how much it costs; make Dr Mortensen an offer he can’t refuse.”


	2. Day 24: 5 June 2003

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sean tries to find out more about the sickness that is sweeping the globe.

**MI6 headquarters, Vauxhall Cross, London**

Sean Bean, MI6’s deputy head of section for South East Asia, limped into his office and noticed the folder in his in-tray immediately. Lowering himself into his desk chair with some difficulty, he pulled the report towards him. 

He scanned the words quickly, and then went back to read the slim file again more thoroughly. Most of the information was as he had expected when he’d requested the intelligence the previous morning. The dossier confirmed that the majority of the population in large parts of South East Asia had been struck down with a serious flu-like illness. Cases had been confirmed in all countries in the area with the notable exception of China, North Korea and Burma. There had been no confirmed cases in any of those places. With China's densely populated cities that didn’t make any sense; unless the governments of those countries were preventing information reaching the outside world. The possible ramifications of that scenario were worrying, but if Sean was going to stick his neck out and produce a document highlighting the potential for disaster when the illness arrived in the UK, he needed to check his data with a trustworthy source. 

Unlocking his desk, he took a small, black leather covered book out of the top drawer and flicked through the pages until he came to the name he wanted. He picked up the phone, dialled the number and waited. 

When his call hadn’t been answered after ten or so rings, he looked at the clock, though awareness of the time difference between the UK and Singapore was ingrained in his mind. It was only just after nine in London and therefore a little after five in the evening in Singapore, Indi should still be in the office. The fact that he hadn’t answered the phone yet, set Sean worrying.

After several more rings the phone was eventually snatched up and a gruff voice said, “Yes?”

“Indi?”

“Who is this, please?”

“It’s Sean Bean in London.”

“Sean? My apologies I didn’t recognise your voice.”

“That’s fine; you weren't expecting me to call. How are you and the family?”

“Not good, Rani and the baby are sick and it is very difficult to find a doctor who will see them.”

The coil of worry in Sean’s gut drew itself tighter. Indi wasn’t even attempting to make any sort of polite conversation, that meant the situation was already far more serious than he had envisaged. “What about the embassy doctor? Can’t he see them?”

“He’s sick himself. It’s some sort of virus but it is spreading extremely rapidly.”

“So why are you there? You should be at home with your family.” Sean knew his family were the most important thing in Indi's world.

“You are my family too, Sean, you know that.”

“I know, Indi, but I’m fine here and Rani and the baby need you with them.”

“They are here at the embassy; I brought them in with me to see if the doctor here would take a look at them. But, as he is not here, we are going home again.”

“What are their symptoms?”

“An extremely high temperature, vomiting, aching joints, flu like but very severe.”

“How long before those who become sick begin to feel better? Do you know?” Sean felt incredibly guilty for asking questions when he should be letting Indi take his family home but he had to get some reliable information, too much could depend on it.

“No. There isn’t any information on recovery yet. On television they are telling people to stay at home, drink plenty of fluids and take paracetamol to bring down their temperature. They are not saying anything about people getting better or about any sort of vaccination, even for those most at risk.”

Wanting to reassure his friend Sean said, “Well, I’m sure in a few weeks things will seem much better, Indi. Maybe then you and the family could come over to England to visit me.”

“I’m not sure about that Sean. In my opinion, Britain should have closed her borders to anyone from outside days ago. I’ve seen some reports that have been smuggled out of China which say that many of the people who have contracted this illness have had to be hospitalised. Even the doctors and nurses are falling sick and there doesn’t seem to be any way to prevent the spread of the infection. I have sent copies of those reports over in the diplomatic pouch.”

Even though he suspected he knew the answer Sean asked, “This isn’t just happening in Singapore, Hong Kong and China, is it?”

“No, the whole region is affected. I’ve spoken to my parents in Malaysia and they say all their neighbours are ill. The situation is even worse in mainland China, some provinces appear deserted and those that aren’t are experiencing a lot of unrest.”

Now that Indi had confirmed his suspicions, Sean’s conscience stepped in, so he said, “I'm sorry to have bothered you at such an awkward time. Take care of your family. Give my love to Rani and hug my godson for me, we’ll catch up again when everyone’s feeling better.” Sean was so thankful that he didn’t have any real family right now. The risk to Indi’s family was bad enough and the idea that he was powerless to help them made him sick to his stomach.

“I will.” There was a minute’s hesitation before Indi spoke again. “Listen, Sean, I have something important to tell you, something I would not put in an official report. I do not have any proof and have only heard rumours but it is my belief that this virus is not a natural occurrence.”

“What?” 

“I suspect it might be man-made.”

“Oh Christ!” Sean hadn't so far given a moment's thought to the possibility that the virus hadn’t evolved naturally. “What makes you think that, Indi?”

“This virus is too virulent and there are no reports of any success in treating it.”

“But who would let loose something like this – they would have to be mad.”

“I think it has something to do with the group we have been investigating. I have heard another rumour, Sean, which concerns your friend Viggo. This group are seeking him and knowing he is a specialist with viruses, I have wondered if both things are connected with this epidemic.”

“I can’t believe that Viggo would have anything to do with something so dangerous.” Not so long ago, Sean had known Viggo as well as anyone could and it was inconceivable to Sean that he would be involved in the creation of such a monstrosity. It went against everything the other man had always led Sean to believe about him.

“I do not know, Sean. I am merely telling you what I have discovered.” Before Indi could say any more, Sean heard the noise of a baby crying loudly in the background. He once more felt guilty for taking Indi’s time when he should be spending it with his wife and child.

“Indi, thanks for the information. Now go, and take your family home. Leave tracking Viggo down to me.”

“I will go soon, Sean but there is one last thing I must say. Flights were running out of Changi airport here until this morning when there was an accident.”

“Yes, I heard that there was a crash landing but not any details.”

“The flight crew fell ill during the flight but fortunately the co-pilot managed to land the plane after a fashion before he succumbed. But the important thing is that there is no chance the sickness has not already spread around the world. Given what has happened here, I am sure that soon not even the medical services in the West are going to be able to cope. You have to take care of yourself, Sean.”

“I’ll try, my friend.” Still stunned Sean groped for something to say. How could anyone in their right mind create a virus that could affect the entire world?

“One last thing, it appears that the virus first appeared in Northern Laos, not that I suspect this information will be of any use now.”

“Don’t worry about it now, Indi. Take your family home and concentrate on looking after them.”

“Thank you, Sean. It has been a pleasure to work with you. You are an honourable man.”

“Thank you, Indi, I’ll try to call again in a few days.”

Thinking through what Indi had said Sean knew there was only one way to find out for sure what Viggo’s involvement with this epidemic was. And if he wasn’t involved then his expertise could be very helpful. It was only then that the significance of Indi's last words sank in. Sean realised with horror that his friend wasn't expecting that he or his family would survive this epidemic.

More determined than ever to try to do something, Sean pulled the black book towards him and flicked through the pages again. Dialling a number he left a message, repeating the process twice more. He might not have seen Viggo in several years but they’d put a process in place to enable them to contact each other in the event of an emergency. Sean prayed it was still working and that Viggo would get back to him. 

Now, Sean needed to let his chief know what he’d discovered with a few key omissions. He spent another few moments in thought before pulling the keyboard of his computer towards him. He always told himself that he hated the sodding thing but at least with it he could produce a report that was legible without too many bloody spelling mistakes.

An hour later, he picked up his phone and dialled C's secretary's number. The phone was answered at once by a very nasal female voice.

“Hey, Claire, you sound rough.”

“Oh, it’s you, Sean. I think I’ve got this flu that’s going around. I feel awful.”

Sean made a pretence of forced joviality. “Well, best take yourself home to bed until you feel better.”

“Yes, I was just about to ask C if it would be all right if I went home.”

“That sounds like a good idea to me. Would he have a couple of minutes, if I come up now?”

“I’ll check his diary, things have been frantic today, hang on a minute.”

Sean waited while Claire made clicking noises with her keyboard. 

“He’s due to see the minister at twelve but can fit you in now for maybe twenty minutes now. Will that do?”

“That’s fine. Thanks, love. I’ll see you in a minute.”

Using the arms of his chair to push himself onto his feet, Sean picked up his walking stick in one hand and a printed copy of his report in the other and made his way out of his office; though office was probably an overly generous term for the six by six cubicle he occupied during the working day.

Reaching the lift, he jabbed at the button and waited for it to arrive. He was only going up two floors and before his last job overseas, he would have sprinted up the staircase without a thought. Now, he was reduced to a shambling cripple who could barely walk unaided, he thought bitterly. The lift arrived and he got in, touching the button for the sixth floor. Exiting, he made a conscious effort to banish his frustration; he might curse the bullet that had changed his life so completely but he was one of the lucky ones who had survived that mission. It appeared he was also one of the lucky ones with this virus as so far he’d suffered no ill effects. He sighed; it just went to show what a bastard life could be.


	3. Day 28: 9 June 2003

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sean learns something of the origins of the plague and the enormity of its impact on the world and its population

**MI6 headquarters, Vauxhall Cross, London**

In the four days since Sean had spoken to Indi the number of cases in Britain had rocketed and already the infrastructure of the country was falling apart. Hospitals were overwhelmed and public transport – a breeding ground for disease under normal circumstances – had almost ceased to exist as most of the staff were either sick or refusing to work because of the risk of exposure.

Reliant on public transport or taxis because of the injury to his leg, Sean had opted to stay at the office. It wasn’t any real hardship as there were self-contained apartments available for those needing to be close by during an important operation. Consequently, he had been somewhat distanced from the reality of what was going on, even though, as part of the intelligence community, he'd seen the reports of how the country and rest of the world were suffering during the pandemic. 

In many places law and order had broken down completely, leaving anarchy on the streets. Deaths around the world were already numbered in millions, food stocks were dwindling and the army had already taken over distributing emergency supplies in many countries including the UK. Sean wasn't certain how much longer they could continue to do that, as their numbers were also failing. The situation was grave and Sean didn't see any way it could improve. The scientists had been working day and night, trying to come up with a vaccine but now, in his opinion, anything they could produce would be too little and too late. 

When the message was brought to him that C wanted another meeting he agreed immediately. Following his previous report to the head of MI6, Sean had spent days going through intelligence information trying to track down the source of the virus which he was now convinced was man-made. The virulence, transmission and infection rates were just too high for something naturally occurring. Even the very worst pandemics from previous centuries hadn’t come anywhere close to this. 

As he made his way to the top floor of Legoland, the nickname those who worked there had given to the building, Sean reviewed his notes, paying particular attention to any new information he’d gathered since their last meeting. The chief wasn’t going to want to waste any time going over old ground.

Moving up through the building, Sean noticed how few people were at their desks and those that had made it in, all looked ill. A temp was sitting at C’s secretary's desk and she buzzed Sean through to his office without comment. Sean limped slowly across the polished wood floor until he reached a large oak desk. With an impatient wave of his hand C indicated Sean should take the chair across from him.

Sean studied the other man, they were about the same age, but their paths within the service had been very different. C, the code name adopted by every director of MI6 since the first, George Mansfield Cumming, was a career intelligence officer who had been recruited out of university. Sean had joined the service via the Parachute Regiment and the SAS. Now though, C looked to be near retirement age rather than in his early forties.

“Ah, Sean, thanks for coming up. I’d like you to tell me where you’re up to with your research.”

Sean began to recite the main points of the report. “It appears that the virus has a contagion rate that far exceeds anything we’ve ever encountered before – naturally occurring or man-made. The incubation period seems to be between three and five days but people are infectious before the symptoms appear which is one of the reasons we haven’t been able to contain it. Within a further three to five days the worst affected, usually the elderly, the sick and younger children fall into a coma like state sometimes following a series of convulsions. They’re not sure why at the moment; severe dehydration leading to an electrolyte imbalance is a possibility.” 

“Don’t give me that medical shit, Sean.” C interrupted him. “The medics left at the Centre for Infectious Diseases can tell me that. I want to know what your gut feeling is. Tell me how bad you think this is going to get and if there is any chance that the world will survive. Tell me who the fuck you think is responsible, I don’t need concrete proof, your guess is going to be better than anyone else’s I can think of.”

With a nod, Sean dropped his notes onto the desk and started to speak from memory. “Looking at the distribution of cases and the timescales involved, I've tried to narrow down a point of origin. My best guess is that it started in the north of Laos, near the Chinese and Burmese borders. The closest village was Muang Sing.”

“Was?”

“I managed to speak to some of my contacts before we lost communication with the area and I’ve also studied recent satellite imagery; Muang Sing no longer exists. A massive landslide has buried the whole place.”

“How convenient.” C sat back in his chair with a sigh. “So who do you think is responsible? Not that there is likely to be anything we can do about it now.”

“I don’t have any definite suspects.”

“Bloody hell, Sean, take a guess! There isn’t going to be anyone around to criticise you for it for much longer.” C waved a hand in apology before running it through his prematurely thinning hair.

His chief looked more than tired, Sean now realised he looked ill. Fuck it! Before long he was going to be the only fully fit person in the whole organisation. Once more Sean wondered if he was immune or maybe resistant because he’d spent so much time dosed up on antibiotics recently.

Getting his thoughts in order Sean began to explain his theory on how the virus had come about. “I don’t think this is something released deliberately, it is too virulent and there have been cases reported in every country in the world which tends to rule out the idea that one government is behind it. I think the virus somehow escaped, either before it had been perfected or before an antidote or vaccine had been developed.”

“So who's responsible, Sean?”

“There's a group I've been trying to get information on for several years.”

“Group? What group?” C jumped on his comment like a dog grabbing at a bone.

Sean sighed. “My theory is based on guess work because they have been very careful to cover their tracks but their story goes back to the end of the last war. A lot of the scientists who had been working for the Nazis on their eugenics programme disappeared in the chaos that was Germany back then. I’m pretty sure that many of them ended up in the Soviet Union. When that began to disintegrate in the late eighties, the whole project was sold to the highest bidder for billions of dollars, in an attempt to salvage their bankrupt economy. The buyers were a conglomerate of various business interests but primarily arms dealers. They are based in the Far East, mainly because there are a number of governments in the area who will turn a blind eye to their activities. That's not to infer that they are affiliated with any government, they are only concerned with profit and will go to any lengths to safeguard their interests. My last field mission was to find out more about them.”

“I remember the job. Wasn't that where you were injured and had to switch to the desk job?” C asked.

The baldness of C's statement took Sean aback for a moment until he realised that his sensitivity to his injury was nothing compared to the seriousness of the problems the world was facing. Taking a breath, he answered, “Yes. I was one of the lucky ones, four men didn't get out.”

“What are their aims?” C twined his fingers together and tapped his chin thoughtfully.

“Because we’ve identified a military focus to their activities, I suspect they are trying to create a super soldier. The initiation of the project to sequence the human genome in 1990, added impetus and gave them ideas about ways to push the research forward at a faster rate. Officially, the results of the genome project were published to the world in 2001 but this group had succeeded much earlier because they had almost limitless funds available.”

“So you think they were planning to use a virus to change men into these super soldiers? Why not go for genetic engineering?”

“Perhaps. And selective breeding would take generations to get results. These men are driven by profit and they want to realise it while they can still enjoy it.”

“Then what?”

“If they could create a stock of these super soldiers with enhanced strength and senses, any country with a standing army would want them. They could sell to the highest bidder and make a fortune. Having men like that in your forces would give you an advantage in any sort of hand to hand combat.”

C looked thoughtful. “Mmmm more likely they could use their super army to invade other countries.”

Sean shook his head. “No, I don’t think that’s their aim. No amount of enhanced ability is going to protect you from an airstrike. How many tin-pot dictators would be willing to spend their entire GDP on an elite guard with such superior abilities? Think of the kudos associated with such an act.”

“Is anyone else aware of this? I suppose I should arrange to share your results with our American friends for all the good it will do.”

“My opposite number at Langley could have found out the same information I did. It was easily available if you knew where to look. It depends on whether they had anyone who could put the pieces together in the same way.” Sean decided not to mention that he had a head start with his investigation because his original lead, years before, had come from Viggo, when he had initially been approached by the group to head up their research programme.

C waved his hand and gave a faint smile. “Well Washington may have more resources but their analysis is mostly done by youngsters fresh out of Yale or Harvard. They don't have the experience in the field to put information together in the way experienced analysts like you can.”

“America seems to have been pretty badly hit by the virus, I understand.”

“That's true; but it isn't much better here. The government are still trying to keep the information secret to avoid mass panic but the hospitals are overrun and can't take any new admissions. They are having to keep those patients who have come out of the coma sedated because they are uncontrollable if they don't. All of our secure accommodation is full and of course the staff there, and at the hospitals, are falling sick themselves. The world is going to Hell, Sean; I don't think any of us are going to survive.”

Sean nodded, he’d made some predictions based on the information he had and the answers hadn’t been good. “By my worse guess, the population of Britain is going to fall to not much more than five hundred thousand and most of those are going to be insane. It’s the end of everything we know, that’s for sure.” Sean uttered the words carefully, not really wanting to say them aloud in case he was wrong – and how he hoped he was.

“For Heaven’s sake, Sean, the population now is nearly sixty million. That’s less than a one per cent survival rate.”

Sean nodded. He hadn’t liked the conclusion he’d come to either but that didn’t stop it from being the most likely outcome. He’d been through it enough times. “I know but I’ve done the calculations over and over. Only those who were lucky enough to fall sick early will be treated while they are in the coma. The rest are going to simply die from dehydration which, no doubt, will be a more peaceful end. Our infrastructure will fail and it will eventually mean the survivors need to band together and return to a medieval style of living. If they can do it. There's been rioting and looting across most of the large cities, that will continue and get worse. The crazies are managing to fend for themselves now by stealing food, but that's not going to last. Soon the cities will be no go areas because of the danger and disease.”

“What about you, Sean? How are you feeling?”

Sean shrugged, “I'm fine.”

C looked at him thoughtfully. “In the last message I got from our colleagues across the pond, they mentioned that a very small number of people infected, maybe a hundredth of a per cent, don't fall into comas. Instead, after what seems to be a very good night's sleep they wake and are better than before. This information is supposed to be top secret but I suspect that is superfluous now.”

“Better?”

“Yes, they are stronger, faster with superior senses. It would appear that the virus does work and produce the super soldiers but the rate of attrition is unacceptably high.”

“You think this might be happening to me?” Sean looked at C in shock.

“Possibly.”

Sean laughed, “Fat lot of good that will do me, I've still got this duff leg.”

C's expression grew more serious. “You know I’m sick, Sean?”

He was tempted to lie but it solved nothing so Sean just nodded.

“I’m going to take myself off home in a little while and I’m going to send everyone else away too. They should be with their families. My recommendation to you, for what it’s worth, is to find yourself a vehicle, get a stock of food and weapons together and get out of London. Find a place where you can settle, which is defensible. You never know, you might find others like you, who have survived to join with.”

“How likely is that? Britain becomes a very big place with only ten thousand people living there.” Sean snorted, he’d been thinking along the same lines himself but he envisaged it being a very lonely existence.

“That’s another good reason to have a gun, save a bullet, then at least if the loneliness gets too much you can end it.”

“Suicide?”

“Come on, Sean, don’t pretend to be shocked; you're not a religious man and there won’t be anyone around to look badly on you. I suspect there will be many who will take that as a way out.”

“It isn’t that, I don't care what anyone thinks of me, it just feels wrong to give up like that.” Sean tailed off not sure he could explain how the idea of suicide was so repugnant to him. Dying as part of the job was a risk he had learned to accept but deliberately giving up felt like a huge admission of failure.

They sat in silence for a moment then C stood suddenly and walked around his desk. He reached out to Sean and offered him his hand. Once they had shaken hands and he said, “I want to thank you for your loyal service to your Queen and country. You’re a good man, Sean Bean. May God help you.”


	4. Day 31: 12 June 2003

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sean and Viggo make contact and Orlando appears.

**London**  
The moment Sean opened his eyes in the MI6 apartment, he recognised that something had changed and it only took moments to realise what it was. Three nights ago the streets around the MI6 building had been a cacophony of revving car engines and blasting horns as their owners tried to escape the city. The night before last the darkness had borne sounds of violence, with gunshots and screams echoing shrilly, disturbing his rest. But last night and now there was absolute quiet; it was a tense silence, exactly like the calm before a storm.

Anxious to look outside, Sean rolled off the bed and walked over to the window, scratching his bare stomach as he did so. From his vantage point on the fifth floor, he looked up onto Vauxhall Bridge and saw nothing. Turning to his left he looked over to the nightmarish one way system, but instead of the usual gridlock, there wasn’t a single car in sight, moving or stationary. Looking at the area surrounding the building now devoid of life, Sean remembered the quote by T S Eliot: This is the way the world ends, not with a bang but a whimper. 

With his concentration on what was happening outside, it was only when he started to move towards the kitchen area to make some coffee that he realised with shock that he was walking normally. For the first time in months he wasn’t in pain, his leg didn’t drag and he wasn’t struggling for balance without his cane. Feeling suddenly lightheaded, he sat down abruptly on a conveniently placed chair.

Months after being injured, he’d eventually accepted that he was lucky to have survived when others hadn’t. Learning to cope with a disability had been difficult and had caused him considerable anguish. Accustomed to being fit and active, finding himself unable to walk unaided had been depressing and there had been times early on, when he had fleetingly thought of giving up. But, as he had explained to C, it wasn’t in his nature so he’d fought the feelings of despair and had managed to come to terms with his new life. Now though, everything had changed and he felt just like his old self again. But tempering the euphoria of knowing he was well again was the knowledge that countless millions had died as a result of the virus.

Over the past couple of days he’d tried to call Indi several times to find out how he was doing, but each time the phone had rung without being answered leaving Sean to conclude the worst possible outcome for him and his family. Sean had also seen friends and colleagues head off for home looking sick and it had hurt to know that he would probably never see them again. Logic told him he wasn’t responsible for the virus and that he was just a beneficiary but it didn’t stop him feeling guilty at his good fortune.

Making a deliberate effort move his mind away from maudlin thoughts, he tried to recall what C had said concerning the reports of increased strength and other abilities. Dressing quickly and taking his phone with him, in case Viggo managed to get in touch, Sean went down two floors of the deserted building to the gym. He’d find out there for sure if anything else about him had changed.

Half an hour later, Sean had come to the conclusion that he could run faster, jump higher, lift heavier weights and, even though he couldn’t measure it, he was convinced his sight, hearing and sense of smell had also been enhanced.

It was a sobering thought to realise that he was going to need all those abilities to get himself safely out of London because, if his calculations were correct, many of those who had contracted the virus and fallen into comas would be waking up in the next couple of days. The population of London had been eight million; if only half a percent of those woke up crazy tomorrow, that was going to mean forty thousand lunatics between him and some semblance of safety.

Why the fuck hadn’t he and Viggo had agreed on a shorter time scale before each could assume the other one wasn’t going to respond? Oh well, they’d agreed a week and that deadline expired at noon tomorrow, and shortly after was when Sean intended to get moving.

As soon as C had evacuated the building, Sean had limped around the entire thing, making sure it was completely empty and that all the security doors were locked and alarmed. The thought of a group of crazies getting in and stalking him through the corridors was enough to give him nightmares. He’d also switched off all the lights, apart from those that operated automatically outside as part of the security system to avoid attracting any undue attention from anyone who might be wandering about outside.

In the time he had left to wait for Viggo’s call, Sean planned to finish collecting together as much food and equipment as he could cram into the Land Rover he’d earmarked in the car park situated under the building. Getting into the store rooms had simply been a matter of swiping his ID card in the correct slot. Once he was done and if he still hadn’t heard from Viggo, his plan was to head out of London taking the shortest route possible.

Making sure he still had his phone in his pocket, Sean started down to the lower storage floor which was situated beneath the building. There was already a pile of equipment in the middle of the hallway along with the list he’d made before he started. Checking where he was up to, Sean began to add to the pile quickly and efficiently.

He had every intention of clearing MI6’s stores of ration packs, medical kit, including whatever drugs he could find and finally a comprehensive arsenal of weapons. He also planned to salvage non-perishable food from any supermarkets he passed, keeping the rat-packs for emergencies.

When he had still found walking difficult he’d had no option but to plan to use the lift to ferry his supplies up to the car park level. But, now he was completely mobile, he decided to move the stuff by hand via the stairs. At least then, if the power in the building went out, he wouldn’t get trapped in the lift with possibly fatal consequences. And he had the time; Viggo’s deadline didn’t expire until the following day.

Sean knew the building had its own priority connection to the power grid, and backup generators for security, so he hoped it would stay running for a while longer if only so he could get out without having to open the security gates and car park shutter manually and risk drawing unwanted attention to himself.

He was just heading up the stairs with another load when the phone in his pocket started buzzing like a demented bee. Dropping the packs he was carrying, he pulled it out and looked at display. The caller’s identity was withheld, so thumbing the answer button he snapped into the receiver, “Who’s this?”

The snort of laughter at the other end of the line gave the answer away at once but Sean waited until the caller spoke. “It’s me. I’m glad to hear your voice and I’m hoping you’re well.”

“Yeah, I’m fine, in fact better than ever. What about you?”

“I’m doing okay.”

“Are you safe?”

“I’m in a safe place but may have a few problems coming up that you could help with.”

“Problems? What sort of problems?”

“People problems. The ones responsible for this mess are after me. You know they’ve been trying to get to me for them for nearly ten years but I’ve always resisted the temptation. Now they seem to think I can just whip up a vaccine they can use to safeguard their own asses. I think they don’t like the idea of having to walk around in hazmat suits for the rest of their lives because they’re not sure they would be one of the lucky ones to get through this with enhanced abilities.”

“You know about the enhanced abilities?”

“Yeah, I do. A friend’s been keeping me up to date on their research. I gather from what you said earlier, that you’re one of the one hundredth of a per cent who experienced an improvement, instead of turning into a refugee from a zombie movie.”

Sean didn’t think that needed an answer. “How about you? How did you get through it?”

“I think we ought to talk about that when we link up. Where are you?” It sounded as though Viggo was being coy as well.

“At work.” Habit made Sean respond obliquely. Viggo was being cagey about his location so, just in case anyone was listening in, Sean decided to follow suit.

“You need to get out of there soon, brother. It’s not going to get any better.”

“Yeah, I know. That’s my plan. Tell me where I need to be and I’ll finish my preparations and get moving.”

“You remember where we went fishing once, about six years ago? The weather was so bad we didn’t get a chance to do anything. Well, nothing except...” Viggo’s voice faded out and Sean could visualise the dopey grin that would be on his face.

“Jesus, that was a long time ago.”

“But do you remember where it was?”

“Of course I do.” Oh yes, Sean remembered the location Viggo was referring to. They’d been more than friends back then. Lovers was possibly too strong a word, maybe friends with benefits better suited the relationship they’d had. “With no fishing we had to find other ways to keep ourselves occupied, didn’t we?” Oh yeah, they’d done that all right. At the time, Sean had wondered if either of them would ever walk right again.

“I need you to get here as soon as you can.”

“Okay, I’ll do my best. It’s going to take a few days though, depending on how many detours I have to make. I’m going to need to refuel at least once.”

“If you call me when you get near I can come pick you up.”

“I don’t think the phone networks will stay up for much longer, the power will run out. Have you got a radio?”

“No, no radio. Okay I’ll be waiting for you – you know the place – at dusk on Sunday the fifteenth and for three more days after that between dusk and dawn. We’ll lay to off shore during the day. If you can’t be there by then I’ll assume something has happened and I’ll have to go it alone.”

“Okay.” Sean saw no fault with Viggo’s reasoning and hopefully a week at the outside was ample time for him to make the trip north.

“Take care of yourself, and I’ll see you soon.” Viggo concluded.

“You too. And don’t worry, I’ll be there.”

Shutting off his phone, Sean hurried to finish his preparations. Viggo was worried and Sean knew him well enough to know that it wasn’t about his own or Sean’s safety. Sean’s best guess was that Viggo fully expected those responsible for the virus to come after him somehow and was anxious that the islanders sheltering him not be counted as collateral damage.

He should have guessed that Viggo would hide out on Barra – it was somewhere they had both visited a number of times. The island was small, not much more than twenty square miles in area. Being surrounded by sea would make the place more defensible but would also be difficult for supplies. As far as he recalled from their visits there, there wasn’t a huge amount of arable land to grow crops. Also its position so far north meant that the weather wasn’t the best for anything other than sheep or cattle farming. Viggo hadn’t said the words in case they were overheard but Sean now knew that he had to get close to Mallaig on the west coast of Scotland. Viggo would meet him there with a boat and take him across to the island.

More certain than ever that he shouldn’t skimp on equipment, Sean went back to loading the Land Rover.

Two hours later Sean was finished packing. In addition to the items he’d already decided on, he had four five gallon jerry cans on board as well as a small but comprehensive kit of spares and tools for the Land Rover. He was aiming to fill the cans as soon as he could find somewhere remote, maybe a small local garage or a farm where there was a stock of red diesel he could take.

Taking the opportunity for a hot shower, maybe the last one he would have for a very long time, he finally he dressed in the camouflage fatigues that he’d also found in the stores. He’d become accustomed to wearing greens all the time when he’d been in the army so it didn’t take him long to finish getting ready.

After a final look around his office, he picked up his small black address book from the desk and put it in his pocket. He wasn’t sure it would ever be useful again but sentiment wouldn’t let him leave it. With a sense of finality, he turned out the lights and left the room, clattering down the flights of stairs to the basement car park. Ignoring the smell from the overflowing bins that hadn’t been collected in more than a week and the rats that scuttled away Sean climbed into the driver’s seat.

Making sure he had a weapon handy on the seat next to him, Sean turned the key. The Land Rover engine started first time and driving sedately over to the exit gates, he reached out and swiped his ID card. The power was still on so the shutter opened smoothly, he drove under it and then up and out of the second set of gates into a warm June evening. The gates closed behind him with a sense of finality.

Ignoring the one way system, he turned right and headed straight up onto Vauxhall Bridge. He was going north and had worked out the most direct route out of London to get him on to the M1, the main motorway running north. Once there he should be able to really get a move on.

The approach to the bridge was empty apart from several abandoned and wrecked cars, some with decomposing bodies inside. He wove his way around them, determined not to let anything stop him. He was going to get to Viggo and keep him safe until he came up with a cure. Sean owed it to the ones less fortunate than himself.

~~~~

As he drove across the bridge, Sean could see the traffic lights at the junction with Millbank shining in his favour so he put his foot down to get through on green. Almost immediately he realised the futility of his action. What other cars were going to be on the road now? Stopping for red lights was surely a thing of the past.

Sean was almost at the intersection when a figure appeared on his right in his peripheral vision. Instead of waiting until the Land Rover had passed, the man speeded up and leapt up and over the bonnet, landing lightly on the other side. Braking instinctively, Sean locked the wheels and the Land Rover slid almost to a stop. 

The man ignored Sean completely and continued running. In moments he was some yards away, heading towards Chelsea Bridge. Shaking his head in puzzlement, Sean glanced in the other direction and immediately understood why the first man hadn’t paused, despite the near miss. Six men in ragged, blood splattered clothing, waving knives were following him. They didn't baulk at the sight of the Land Rover, merely splitting up to go around it, intent on the chase. 

The lone runner was easily keeping ahead of his pursuers so common sense told Sean he should just drive on and not get involved. The first guy could be crazy too. But, Sean’s conscience reminded him, he’d jumped over the bonnet easily enough, so it could mean instead, that he had the same enhanced abilities as Sean. If that was the case, Sean had to help him. 

It only took a split second for Sean to come to a decision. He caught up with the pursuers quickly and when he drew level, sounded the horn, holding it down and making a God awful noise. Sean grinned when three of the hunters bolted, veering off from the chase and falling into the black plastic bags of rubbish that lined the kerbside. The others didn't falter and if anything increased their pace. Accelerating past them, Sean quickly drew level with the lone runner. He grabbed the gun off the seat and stuck it behind the passenger seat and then reached across the vehicle and pushed the Land Rover door open yelling, “Get in!”

The man looked over at him and Sean saw a tall slim figure with dark hair and brown eyes filled with suspicion. But, before he could either refuse or accept Sean's offer of help, they both spotted another group of crazies up ahead. 

Without breaking stride, the man leapt into the passenger seat of the Land Rover and pulled the door shut behind him, locking it in a single fluid movement.

Ignoring his new passenger for a moment, Sean threw the Land Rover into a tight turn and headed back towards the bridge. The three original pursuers spread out across the road attempting to block his path. Shaking his head and muttering curses at their lack of fear and stupidity, Sean kept his foot down and hit the horn again. Two of them jumped clear at the last minute but he hit the third square on. The body was thrown up and onto the bonnet where it stayed for a few moments, before sliding off to the side and disappearing from view. A moment later there was a bump as the rear wheels passed over it.

Back at the junction, Sean threw the steering wheel hard over and took the left turn back onto his planned route almost on two wheels. Glancing in the rear mirror he breathed a sigh of relief when he saw they were not being followed.

Allowing the vehicle and his heart rate to slow a little, Sean looked over at his companion, who seemed a bit stunned at his narrow escape. Seeing blood on the green hospital scrubs the man was wearing Sean asked, “Are you hurt?”

The man took a deep breath and shook his head. “No, I'm fine.” His voice wavered slightly and Sean noticed that his hands were shaking.

Sean pointed at the blood splattering the other man’s clothes. “So none of that is yours?”

“No.”

“That’s good.” Something occurred to Sean. “Why didn’t you stop me rather than jumping over the car?”

“Because I don’t know you from fucking Adam. You could have been as crazy as the rest of them.” 

“Sorry, it was a daft question. Let me start over and introduce myself, I’m Sean.”

Finally the other man said, “Orlando.” 

Sean continued to drive aware that Orlando was now watching him closely. It was easy to guess why. “Look, Orlando, you can trust me. I've not had any symptoms of the virus, so you're safe.”

“I’m sorry if I sound ungracious but it's probably going to take a while for me to trust you. It’s been a really rough week.”

“That’s okay, I understand.” Sean indicated his clothing. “You’re a doctor?”

“Yes.” Sean thought at first that caution would mean Orlando wouldn't say any more but was pleased when he added, “I work in A and E at St Thomas's.”

“So you'd come from there? It’s a fair distance, must be nearly two miles.”

“Having those bastards after me was a pretty good incentive to keep on going.”

“I can imagine. Any idea what they wanted?”

“I think they wanted to have me for dinner.”

“What?” Sean’s foot slipped off the accelerator for a fraction of a second before he stamped back down. “Are you serious?”

Orlando nodded. “That’s not something I’d joke about.”

“Did they catch up with you at the hospital then?”

“Yeah.”

“How?”

“I’d worked non-stop for around four days because I was the only one still on my feet. Eventually, I must have crashed out through exhaustion. I woke up when that lot came through the door and started yelling and smashing stuff. I was the only one left alive in the area and when they saw me moving one of them came over and grabbed me. He was waving a knife around and looking like he was going to gut me so I thumped him and got the fuck out of there. I hoped they’d stay put and go for the bodies in A and E rather than chase me, but I was wrong. Maybe they wanted fresh meat.”

Sean let that nugget of information sink in. When he’d discussed the deteriorating situation with C, cannibalism hadn’t been something they’d considered but he guessed it was a logical development given the effects of the virus on those who woke up. He also wondered if there was something about the bodies of those who had died as a result of the virus that made them inedible for the crazies. Typically, he was ending up with more questions than answers right now but hopefully Orlando, being a doctor, might have some more information on that.

Testing the theory that Orlando might have come through the virus like he had, Sean asked, “How did it feel when you were running? Was it easier than it would have been in the past?”

“What? Are you kidding? I was scared shitless, I didn't have time to notice if it was easier. All I wanted to do was get away from them.” 

“Yeah, sorry. I didn’t think.” Sean hastened to respond, anxious that Orlando didn’t reconsider the idea that he was one of the crazies too.

Sean stopped talking while he navigated the one way system at Victoria. It was only when he’d got into Grosvenor Place that he realised it would have been quicker going straight through. It seemed that old habits, like obeying traffic restrictions, would take a while for him to lose.

“Listen, Sean, I'm really grateful to you for helping me out but I've got things I have to do so I need you to drop me off somewhere.”

While Sean needed to get to Viggo, he wasn’t keen on leaving Orlando alone and unprotected so he blurted out without thinking, “Hang on a minute; it's dangerous to be out there on your own unless you know how to look after yourself. Look at the number of shops that have been looted.” Sean pointed at the row of broken windows lining the street.

“You don't say?” Orlando snapped.

Sean hurried to respond. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean doubt your abilities. It's just that there are likely to be a lot of crazies waking up soon and there might still be some people out there who have not yet been infected who will want to defend themselves. I guess the City area will probably be okay because not too many people live there, but a bit further out is going to be a no go area. Disease will spread because of the bodies and the water supply is going to be contaminated very quickly.”

Orlando shrugged and gave a tired smile. “Yes, I know all that and I’m not planning on staying in London. I need to find a car and some supplies so I can get home to my Dad and make sure he's okay.”

“Where is he?”

Orlando hesitated for a moment before answering. “In Keswick, in the Lake District.”

Sean didn’t think that there was much chance of his father’s survival but he wasn’t going to dash Orlando’s hopes right away. Maybe he could find a way to let him down gently? “Does he live there alone?”

“Yeah, my mum died ten years ago. He lived and worked in Carlisle but loved the Lake District so much that when he retired he sold his house in Carlisle and moved to Keswick so he could spend all his spare time walking in the hills.”

Wanting to know more about his unexpected passenger Sean asked, “Was he a doctor? Is that why you became one?”

Orlando grinned and immediately his face became alive. “Yeah, there was never any doubt I would follow in his footsteps.”

Sean weighed up the options. If he offered Orlando a lift to Keswick, then he had backup should they run into trouble. Orlando was also a doctor and in the present circumstances his skills could be invaluable. Somehow knowing instinctively that Orlando wasn’t a danger to him or Viggo, Sean made a snap decision. “If you want to travel with me I can take you north, I’m heading that way.”

“Really? That would be brilliant.” Orlando's suspicions of him had obviously been mostly allayed during their brief conversation.

“I’m not being defeatist, lad, but things will have been rough and your dad might not have made it.”

“I know, but I spoke to him a few days ago for a couple of minutes and he was okay, not sick or anything so it looks as though he’s managed to get through it like me. I’m hoping that it might be a genetic immunity.”

“That’s possible I suppose.” Sean nodded. Personally he thought Orlando might be clutching at straws, but Sean didn’t blame him. With the world going to shit, it was maybe worth trying to keep hold of some optimism. “Okay, how about I get you to Keswick and we can take it from there?”

“But you barely know me. Why would you help me out like that?”

“I think that we survivors are going to need stick together,” Sean answered soberly.

“Survivors? Is it that bad everywhere then? I’d hoped that we were more affected than other hospitals because we were so central.” Orlando sighed. “I didn’t want to believe how serious the situation was but deep down I think I knew. There were no hospital beds left anywhere in London and we had people on trolleys and on mattresses on every spare inch of floor space.”

“It’s been the same everywhere, all over the world.”

“Shit! So what happens now?”

“I’ve no bloody idea other than we all have to look out for ourselves from now on.”

Giving Orlando time to come to terms with that bombshell they drove in silence for several more minutes.

“There aren’t as many bodies as I’d expected.” Sean said after a while.

“Yeah, I noticed that. A lot of the patients presenting were light sensitive and I wonder if most people just stayed indoors because they could stay away from the light. And don’t forget the authorities were advising people to stay at home unless they really had to go out.” Orlando yawned. “Sorry, I’m still knackered.”

“No problem, have a doze if you want. I’ll wake you if anything happens.”

~~~~

Sean planned to take the most direct route out of the city and fortunately he didn’t spot any other semi-organised gangs prowling the streets, just a few lone figures stumbling around. 

Most of them ran or hid as they approached. The sight of them confirmed Sean's opinion that getting out of London before it got dark was a very good idea. There were sure to be a lot more crazies on the street at night hunting for food.

They were coming up to the junction of Edgware Road with the Westway when Sean saw in the distance that the road was blocked. It wasn’t just abandoned cars littering the roadway but looked like a purpose-built barricade. Knowing that could mean trouble, he quickly took the first side road, heading east to the next junction where he cut back west. Unfortunately, the road layout meant they were now stuck on Westway and heading in the wrong direction.

“Bollocks!”

“What’s up?” Orlando sat up, rubbing his eyes. Sean hadn’t realised he’d fallen asleep because he'd been concentrating on the road.

“Road block under Westway,” he answered tersely. 

Orlando looked around. “Are we going the wrong way now?”

“Yeah.”

“Can we turn round?”

“Yeah, I think so, there’s a roundabout just up a bit.” It was only once he’d said it that Sean realised the stupidity of his comment. Laughing he said to Orlando, “Bloody hell, I’m being an idiot. I can turn around here and drive on the other side of the road. It doesn’t matter any more because there aren’t any other cars around.”

In no time they were heading towards the M1, the main motorway north out of London.

Trying to make conversation, Sean asked, “You have any other family, apart from your dad?”

“No.” Orlando shook his head. “There’s just the two of us. What about you? Do you have any family?”

“Nah, my parents are both long gone.” It was habitual for Sean to avoid revealing anything about himself so he asked a question instead of offering any more information. “What about girlfriends?”

Orlando’s didn’t answer immediately, delaying for maybe only a fraction of a second but that delay was significant to someone like Sean, whose life had more than once depended on being able to judge people quickly and accurately.

“I think you’ve been watching too many soap operas, Sean. Since I became a Senior House Officer, I’ve been working sixteen hour days. There’s been no time for anything other than working and studying.”

An undercurrent in Orlando’s voice told Sean he wasn’t telling the whole truth but his instincts told him that Orlando wasn’t withholding anything vital. If certainly gave Sean some food for thought; because despite his exhaustion and scruffy appearance, something about Orlando appealed very strongly to Sean.

~~~~

It was nearly an hour later when Orlando woke again and Sean could tell that it took him a couple of seconds to get his bearings but once he did he pushed himself more upright and looked around. He stretched before asking, “Where are we?”

“Just outside Northampton, I’ve been keeping the speed down to between fifty and sixty to save on diesel as I’m not sure how easy it’s going to be to find somewhere safe to stop.”

“I saw cans in the back, surely they will get us where we need to be?”

Sean shook his head. “They’re empty but there’s bound to be a few farms around here where we can try to fill them.” He looked over at Orlando, “You need some other clothes, you’ve still got blood all over you. I’ve got something in the back that should fit well enough, no boots though; you’ll have to make do with your trainers.”

“That’s okay I can run faster in them.” 

Sean recognised the joke for what it was, Orlando’s way of coping. He wasn’t one to criticise as he’d only got through the past few days himself by resolutely not thinking about what must have happened to friends and colleagues. 

“You hungry?” Sean asked.

“Starving.”

“Tell you what; we’re coming up to a service station soon. We can take a slow drive around to see if anyone is there and if not, we can stop and maybe salvage some food. I’ve got rat-packs in the back but I’d like to hang onto those in case of an emergency.”

“Rat-packs?”

“Sorry, ration packs. They give you a whole day’s meals in one pack – they’re not too bad on the whole.”

“Were you in the army then? You know, before?” Orlando asked.

“I was a long time ago.”

“Oh. So what were you doing when it all went to shit?”

“I work or worked - I don’t know what the fuck is true now - for MI6.”

“You were a spy?”

Sean shrugged, that side of his life was over now. There weren’t any governments left to need a secret service and he was certainly not going to be charged with breaching the Official Secrets Act. “I guess you could say that. My job title was intelligence officer and I spent most of the last few months sitting in an office analysing information.”

“It doesn’t sound very James Bond-like when you say it like that.” Orlando laughed briefly.

Smiling in response Sean said, “It wasn’t. And before you ask I don’t like martinis, shaken or stirred, I much prefer a good pint of bitter.”

They’d raided a deserted service station for some sandwiches and had been driving for another twenty minutes when the lights down the centre of the road began to flicker. This lasted for about thirty seconds before they went out completely, plunging everything into darkness.

Up to then, Sean had been driving without lights, the better to hide their progress from anyone who might pose a threat. Whether it was something to do with his improved eyesight or maybe his eyes were accustomed to the lower light levels but he hesitated for a moment before switching on the headlamps of the Land Rover.

Orlando looked over at him and with a note of accusation in his voice said, “You could see okay back there, before you put the lights on, couldn’t you?”

Sean nodded. “Yes, I could. Remember I asked you if you had found running easier when the crazies -?”

“Could you stop calling them crazies? It makes them sound less than human. I’ll admit their behaviour isn’t usual but they’re still people,” Orlando interrupted.

Orlando’s training as a doctor and his instinctive reaction to help was going to be a huge barrier to his continued survival. Sean needed to convince him to look on the crazies as less than human so that he would think twice before attempting to treat them. “I’m not sure what else to call them. You told me they were chasing you because they wanted to butcher and eat you and that doesn’t seem like the behaviour of anyone sane to me. As I don’t have a proper name for what they’ve become, crazies will have to do for now. I’m sorry if the term offends you.”

Orlando appeared to think over his words – which was probably as much as Sean could hope for at the moment – before nodding. “Okay, I can see your point but I’m not sure I can call them that.”

“That’s fine, as long as you can put up with me calling them crazies. Anyway when I mentioned about finding running easier?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, that's part of the side effects of coming through the virus unharmed. Your physiology is changed for the better. Your strength, speed, stamina and all your senses are improved by as much as thirty percent. I think we also heal better.”

“How do you know about the healing process? You’re not telling me you deliberately injured yourself to test it?”

Sean laughed. “No way, I’m not that daft. I had a problem with my leg, an old injury, but by this morning it was as good as new.”

“What was wrong with your leg?”

“I was shot.”

“Shot? How long ago?” Orlando wanted to know.

“About four months.”

“What was the damage?”

Having spent most of his life not talking about himself or what he did, Sean found it decidedly uncomfortable to answer Orlando’s questions. “Why do you want to know?”

“I want to know if it was a coincidence that your leg got better.”

“The nerves were damaged and I needed a cane to walk. The doctors who treated me said I would never walk properly again.” Sean made sure his response was short and to the point.

“Well, nerves don’t usually heal; once they are damaged that’s the way they stay. In some cases though, the body finds alternative ways to channel the impulses; but I wouldn’t have thought it likely in such a severe injury.”

“Yeah, that’s what they said.”

“That must have been tough. Being so active and then having to use a stick to get around.”

Sean didn’t respond and hoped that Orlando would pick up on his mood and change the subject.

“Do you have any idea how good those healing abilities are?” Orlando asked a few minutes later.

Gratefully Sean said, “Not really, there wasn't time for any tests. Also I’ve heard that the likely percentage of people to end up like us is very small, only around a hundredth of a per cent.”

“So why have you turned the lights on now, when we both can see pretty well?”

“Do you always ask so many questions?”

“Yeah, sorry. My dad used to tell me to shut up all the time.” Orlando subsided into silence for a few minutes before beginning to fidget in his seat.

Finally Sean said, “I’ve turned the lights on because we’re coming up to the junction with the M6 and I want to make sure we don’t take the wrong turn.”

“So do you know why the street lights have only just gone out now?” Orlando turned to him eagerly. A bit like a puppy promised a new toy.

Smiling Sean said, “I read a report once; it was a strategy document, prepared in case of a nuclear attack. It said that there was enough fuel held at the power stations to feed them automatically for between twenty-four and forty-eight hours. I guess that time is up now. That being the case, can you have a look at the map and find out how far out of our way we will have to go if we stay on the M1 and then the A1?” 

“Why?”

“The M6 runs through Birmingham and I think we should stay away from cities.”

“Okay, though I don’t think anyone is going to try to stop us at this speed.”

“No, but they might try to barricade the road, like in London. Because the motorway is raised above ground as it goes through the city, we’d be sitting ducks.” While Orlando looked at the map, Sean gave himself a talking to. In the few hours they’d been on the road, he’d become careless. He had to tighten up if they wanted to get through this. “Okay and when we find somewhere to stop that’s safe, I’m going to teach you how to use a weapon. I assume you don’t know how to fire a gun?”

“Actually I do. I was in the Army Cadet Force at school so we spent time on the firing range. I can shoot a rifle or a pistol.”

“Ever used a machine pistol?”

“Jesus, no. We were teenagers so there was no way they’d let us loose with one of those. Besides, I’ve seen the damage they can do at the hospital.”

Orlando’s words almost made Sean reconsider. He was a doctor, accustomed to saving life. How was he ever going to manage to defend himself? 

Orlando’s next words put a temporary halt to his musings. “We can take the M1 and then cut across on the M18 to the A1. We will then have to head west on the A66, through Penrith and straight into Keswick. With no other traffic about it shouldn’t take too much longer at all.”

“We’ll just have to be careful when we get close to places like Sheffield and Leeds. There’re likely to be more people about there.” Sean knew Sheffield well; it was where he grew up but he hadn’t been back once in the last ten years, not since his mother died.

Orlando shook his head, “If we take the M18 we don’t go anywhere near Leeds, or Sheffield for that matter. The motorway goes around most of the major towns like Doncaster. I think the main risk will be the stretch of the road between junction two on the M18 and the A1(M). It’s only dual carriageway and runs right through the middle of some towns. On the other hand, there are several petrol stations marked and if I remember correctly a few have small restaurants at the back where we might be able to find some more food. I’ve been this route a couple of times when I’ve scrounged a lift with friends who were on their way north.”

Sean nodded. “Works for me.”


	5. Day 32: 13 June 2003

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A run in with crazies and an old friend before they reach Orlando's father.

The next hour passed quickly with one quick stop for a comfort break on a deserted stretch of road. They saw several cars abandoned at the side of the carriageway but fortunately none had occupants, which suited Sean just fine. He had a suspicion that if they came across an accident the doctor in Orlando would insist on checking for any survivors. 

He’d driven this route countless times but had forgotten that the junction was one of the staggered ones, with both the A1 and M62 sharing the same carriageway for around a mile before the A1 arrowed off to the left, with the roadway rising and then swinging right and over the M62 on a bridge. Sean slowed as they began to turn, because the layout of the junction and the tightness of the bend made it difficult to see very far ahead. There were also only two lanes which didn’t give them much space to manoeuvre if there was something in the road. Glancing over at Orlando, Sean could see that he too had recognised the potential danger and was scanning their surroundings. 

They had climbed almost forty feet and had begun to cross over their previous route when Sean glimpsed something up ahead. Flicking the headlights on full he saw with dismay that several cars had collided, blocking both lanes of the road. 

He slowed further, hoping to see a gap he could ease the Land Rover through but it didn’t look good.

Orlando said, “We could turn back and take the M62 instead.”

Sean stopped the car about twenty yards from the crashed cars and shook his head. “I’m not happy about that. You must have driven across that road at night. Remember how many lights there were? It’s almost completely built up and you know as well as I do, where there are towns there are going to be higher concentrations of crazies.”

“Okay, so what do we do about this lot?” Orlando gestured at the cars that were completely blocking their path.

“We’re going to have to shift them.”

“How the bloody hell do you expect us to do that?” Orlando almost squeaked and Sean tried hard not to laugh.

“We’re stronger, remember? We should be able to shove one of them out of the way and make a space big enough for us to get through.”

Orlando looked at him doubtfully. “Why don’t we use the Land Rover, we could easily push them aside with this.” He patted the door for emphasis.

“I thought of that but we can’t afford to damage her. If there’s a sharp piece of metal on the wreckage and it goes through something vital like the radiator or a fuel line, we’d be stranded. Even if we found another vehicle we could use, transferring the supplies would take time and add to the risks. Shifting the cars manually will be quicker and quieter. If it doesn’t work, I’ve got a winch attached so we could try to drag them aside but that is bound to take time and make a lot of noise.”

Nodding, Orlando said, “That makes sense I suppose.”

Sean drove a little closer to the wrecked cars and braked again but he didn’t switch off the engine. As soon as they had come to a stop, Orlando reached for the door handle but before he could open it, Sean grasped his arm. 

“Wait a second, Orlando. I want to make some rules about this.”

“Rules? Come on, Sean, I’m not a child and I thought we were in a hurry.”

“I know all that but you also don’t have any experience of this sort of thing. I spent a lot of years in the army so I know how to approach a potential ambush.”

Orlando sighed but nodded again. “Okay. Tell me your rules so that we can clear this mess and get moving again.”

“Right. Even from here I can see that there are bodies in those cars. I know you will want to check them to see if you can help but remember this could be a trap. When we get out of the car, I want you to wait until I’ve checked the immediate area before approaching. Only come over when I give you the all clear. If I tell you to get back to the car, you will do it without arguing and as quickly as you can. Are we clear about this?”

Sean had to hide his smile when Orlando folded his arms like a reluctant child. But eventually he said, “Fine. I understand.”

“Right.”

Reaching behind Orlando’s seat Sean pulled a Heckler and Koch MP5 from its place on the floor. Seeing the weapon Orlando did a double take so Sean hurried to say, “It’s okay. This is just a little extra insurance for us.”

Looking dubious, Orlando pushed open the car door and dropped down onto the roadway. Sean matched his movements, waiting until he was sure that Orlando was following his instructions before heading over to the crashed cars. The smell from the vehicles told him it was unlikely there was anything Orlando could do for the victims but he suspected he would argue if Sean didn’t let him look for himself. Sliding between the metal barrier and the closest car, Sean walked a full circuit of the crash site, making sure there were no nasty surprises. When he was satisfied, he lifted his arm and waved. Orlando jogged over and only gave the cars’ occupants a cursory glance before shrugging. “Nothing for me to do here.”

“I thought not.” Sean tapped the right hand vehicle. “Okay, I think this one is going to be easier to move and doesn’t need to go as far. If we push it back and left, it should swing clear.”

Swinging the strap of the pistol over his shoulder, Sean checked the handbrake was off and it wasn’t in gear, then hunkered down at the front of the crashed car, putting both hands on the bonnet. As soon as Orlando had taken his place beside him, they both pushed. It was very quickly obvious that they had seriously underestimated their combined strength because instead of moving slowly away, the car shot backwards and impaled itself on the metal bars that guarded the edge of the overpass with a sound of rending metal. 

Sean cringed at the unexpected noise and looked around quickly. His improved eyesight caught a glimpse of movement beyond the area of the crash and maybe about twenty yards away. Before he could think about it consciously, he had grasped the stock of the pistol and was pointing the muzzle at the source of the threat.

“There’s something moving out there, get back to the car,” he snapped, gratified when Orlando started to lope back to the Land Rover without argument. Maybe being chased once by crazies was enough for him. Sean waited a few more seconds to be sure Orlando has reached the car before heading back himself.

As he turned Sean saw a large number of figures rushing towards them. Realising he was not going to be able to turn the Land Rover around in a single movement and that they’d be swamped before they complete the manoeuvre, Sean lifted the MP5 and fired a burst towards the crazies. Several went down and the others hesitated for just long enough.

Throwing himself back into the driver’s seat, Sean pulled the door closed and locked it. Passing the pistol over to Orlando, Sean reversed hurriedly and then drove forward, just clearing the metal guard rails, and headed back down the way they’d come. An idea of what to do began to form and he cursed because, once again, he had let habit take over and he had subconsciously followed the rules of the road. 

Now he drove to the nearest gap in the central reservation and crossed over onto the southbound carriageway for a short way and then headed up the ramp on that side which led to the continuation of the A1.

There were a few figures moving about in the half-light alongside the road but fortunately they had acted quickly and main group were still too far away to be a hazard. 

“Do you think they set up the road block?” Orlando questioned, holding the MP5 as though it would bite him.

Before Sean could form an answer the side window next to Orlando shattered. “Fuck! Are they throwing rocks? Hold tight, we can’t afford to lose the windscreen,” Sean snapped before speeding up even more. 

A mile further on, he eased off the accelerator, letting the Land Rover slow down to around sixty again. Deliberately, relaxing his shoulders, he looked over to Orlando. “How’re you doing?”

It was dark inside the car but his night vision was good enough that he could see Orlando was pressing something light coloured against the side of his face. “What’s happened? Are you hurt?”

“No, it’s okay. I got caught by some broken glass when the window shattered. It’s not bad because it feels like it’s stopped bleeding already.”

Sean breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay, I know you're the doctor but I’ll still take a look at it for you when we can stop safely.”

Orlando was quiet for a minute or two and then he said, “Where did they all come from? I didn’t know there was a large town around here.” He sounded shaken.

Sean pursed his lips as he thought about the question. “The nearest place must be Pontefract.” 

“They were working together. I've not heard of that happening before.”

“You're right. But I think it's early days yet and food is relatively easy to come by. In a couple of weeks there won't be so much co-operation, mark my words.”

Orlando looked to the rear of the Land Rover. “Do you think they've forgotten how to drive since they changed? It would have made much more sense to try to follow us in cars or use one to ram us.”

“I don't know, you've got much more experience of dealing with the crazies than me. All I know is what I've read in the reports. By the time we realised just how serious it was, the infrastructure was breaking down and we couldn't get any accurate information.”

“It was like that at the hospital as well really. What about other countries?”

“No different. Maybe worse further east as it appears the virus started there.”

“Really?”

Realising that he had to tell Orlando what he knew Sean explained quickly about the information he'd had from Indi and what C had been able to tell him, but he left out anything about Viggo. 

With no further comments from his passenger, Sean concentrated on driving. In the silence he found it hard to focus and realised why when he checked the clock on the dashboard. It was well after midnight and he’d been up making his preparations to leave HQ since very early. He chuckled to himself; it seemed that having improved abilities didn’t stop you needing sleep.

“What’s funny?” Orlando asked. 

“Nothing. Just thinking that being stronger doesn’t mean you don’t get tired.”

“You want me to drive for a while? I feel okay as I’ve slept a bit since you picked me up.”

If asked he couldn’t have explained his reluctance to let Orlando drive so instead, when he saw a passing road sign Sean came up with an alternative suggestion. “Look, there’s a service station at this junction. How about if we go off the main road here and try to find somewhere out of sight to stop for the rest of the night? It’ll be much safer to travel during the day.”

Sean turned to see Orlando’s reaction and was surprised to see him biting his lip as though he was trying to come up with a good way to say something that he thought would upset Sean.

“What’s wrong?”

Orlando let out a huff. “I’d rather keep on going if it’s all the same to you. I’m really worried about my dad and I want to get to him as soon as possible. I know you’re doing me a big favour by taking me home but Keswick is only a few hours away. There’s a big garage at the house and you can park the car out of sight while you get some rest.” He stopped and then grinned, an expression Sean only really caught because Orlando’s teeth showed up in the gloom of the car interior. “I can drive, if that’s what you’re worried about. I passed my test back when I was seventeen and I’m a good driver. I just never saw the point of owning a car in London. If I went home, dad would always pick me up from Penrith station and I could use his car when I got there.”

After tossing the possibilities around in his mind for a moment Sean slowed and stopped the car at the side of the road. He opened the door and walked around to the other side of the car, as Orlando did the same. He made himself comfortable while Orlando got himself organised in the driver’s seat. As he pulled away, Sean said, “Right, if at any point you’re not sure about anything or see anything suspicious, wake me up.”

Nodding, Orlando said, “Okay. Will do. Get some rest now.” He grinned at Sean again. “Doctor’s orders.”

~~~~

Despite not expecting to be able to rest, Sean dozed off very quickly once Orlando took over driving. He woke with a start when he slid forward in his seat before coming to a sudden halt against his seatbelt.

As soon as Orlando had brought the Land Rover to a stop, he was out of the door and running towards a house set a little way back from the road. He had disappeared without any explanation and before Sean could utter a word of complaint at his rude awakening. 

Even though it wasn’t fully light Sean had no problem seeing the tall man standing beside the house. He was carrying something in his arms which set off alarm bells in Sean’s head. It could be a rifle or shotgun. Releasing his seatbelt, Sean reached behind the driver’s seat and grabbed the first weapon he could find, which happened to be the machine pistol from the night before, before climbing out. 

“Orlando, wait a minute!” he shouted in exasperation. The thing was, Sean hadn’t known Orlando for even a whole day and he was already sure he would miss the daft bugger if he got himself killed. 

Edging a bit closer Sean tried to work out what was going on.

“Liam!” Orlando called out.

The other man didn’t move a muscle until Orlando was around ten feet from him then, moving the small cloth covered bundle until it was balanced against his shoulder, he gestured, warning Orlando away. “Don’t come any closer, Orli. We’ve been sick and I don’t want you to catch it from us.”

“Don’t be a bloody idiot, Liam. I’ve been working in a hospital.” Orlando gestured at his blood splattered clothes. “I’ve already been exposed to the virus and I’m fine.” 

Liam looked at him in concern. “Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m fine. It’s not my blood.” Orlando pointed. “Katy?”

Liam shook his head. “No, Billy. I’ve already put Katy and Susie in the ground…”

“Your whole family? When? How?”

“They fell sick and into a coma. The bairns didn’t wake up, they slipped away, but Susie did. She was raving, like a rabid dog. I had to… She didn’t even know me…” Liam’s voice broke and he couldn’t continue.

“Oh God, Liam, I’m so sorry.”

Liam shook his head emphatically. “God didn’t have anything to do with this. Surely He would have more compassion.”

Sean held his breath when Orlando moved forward and, without hesitation, put his hand on Liam’s arm. “Maybe He does, mate. Maybe it’s a mercy that they won’t have to go through life as it is going to be now.”

“Mercy?” Liam spat angrily. “How can you say that? They were my life. If He’d had any mercy He would have taken me too.”

“I know you won’t think I’m right now, but maybe in time.”

Wishing Orlando would just shut up Sean switched the MP5 to single shot. Even though he knew Orlando was making sense, Sean could see plainly that Liam didn’t want to hear his platitudes. So, he waited, his finger hovering reluctantly over the trigger. It wasn’t an ideal weapon to use in this sort of situation but he reckoned he had the skill to put the man called Liam down without harming Orlando if the need arose. 

Liam moved again, heading for the back of the house. Sean got a clear view of Orlando’s look of anguish before he turned and followed Liam.

Assuming that Orlando would be safe with Liam for a few moments, Sean made sure there was no one around to make off with any of his gear before locking the car doors and going after them.

By the time he reached the back garden, Liam was kneeling beside a hole in the ground and laying his burden gently down inside. 

“Let me help you.” Orlando offered, dropping to his knees. His face was pale and he was breathing deeply as though to stop himself from being sick.

As Sean drew closer, he could see two other cloth-wrapped bodies lying there. Orlando helped Liam arrange the bodies. They both stood when Sean appeared and Liam looked directly at him, sending Sean back onto alert. 

Liam turned to Orlando with a twisted smile. “Your friend doesn’t trust me.”

Ignoring Sean, Orlando said, “Don’t worry about him, he’s a good man. He saved me in London when a mob was chasing me.”

“Mob?”

“Yes. They found me in the hospital. I managed to get away and Sean helped me.”

Liam was silent and eventually Orlando said, “I’ll help you cover them and then you should come with us.”

That comment got a reaction from Liam but it obviously wasn’t the one Orlando was expecting.

“I’m not going anywhere. When I’ve done what’s needed here I’m going to join them. I’ve left enough room and now I’ve got no one else to care about.”

“But we’re friends, almost as close as brothers. Surely that means something? You’ve survived like we have so you should come with me and Sean. We’re going to find my dad. I’m not sure what I’ll do then but we can think about it.”

“Leave it, Orli. I’m not going anywhere.” Liam picked up the shovel that had been jammed into the ground and began to scoop earth back into the pit. “I wouldn’t get your hopes up about finding your Dad alive either. When he was here three days ago to try to help the bairns he looked sick to me.”

Orlando shook his head disbelievingly. “But, he said he was fine when I spoke to him. He told me to find somewhere safe to wait and not try to travel because it would be too dangerous. He said he’d get in contact with me somehow and we’d arrange to meet up.”

Liam gave Orlando a pitying look and then glared at Sean. “If you’re his friend, you’ll take him to see his dad now.”

Sean read the unspoken ‘before he wakes up’ in Liam’s look and nodded. Orlando must have also realised what Liam meant because he turned abruptly and sprinted back towards the road.

Sean followed hard on his heels but Orlando didn’t even bother to try to get into the car, he just carried on running along the road, heading towards the town. Cursing under his breath, Sean unlocked the door, climbed into the driver’s seat and followed, catching up with him quickly. Pulling up in front of Orlando so that the Land Rover blocked most of the road, Sean got out.

“Get in the car, Orlando. It’s too dangerous for you to be walking or running here. We don’t know how many crazies there are around and they could be hiding anywhere.”

“I need to get to my dad, Sean. You heard what Liam said, I need to get home.”

Sean moved closer and rested his hands on Orlando’s shoulders, squeezing slightly. “I know. I’ll take you and stay with you.” 

“What about the friend you're supposed to meet? I don't want to make you late for that.” Orlando pulled against his grip, frantic with worry about his father.

“It's okay; I've got some leeway to make the meeting.” Even though he was very concerned about Viggo, Sean didn't want to leave Orlando alone. From his more objective point of view Sean knew that Orlando was going to need help to cope with his father. 

Orlando’s eyes met his for a brief moment and Sean could see the fear he was trying to hide. Liam’s words had shattered any illusion of what he might find at his father's house.

As Sean was getting back in the car, he heard the sound of a single gunshot. Orlando spun around and he took half a step back towards Liam's house then his shoulders slumped. “Liam...” He sighed.

“Maybe we ought to take a couple of minutes just go back and check. You know, make sure he did it properly. It would be cruel to leave him hurt.”

“But, my dad, I need to get home.”

Sean didn’t need to be an expert at reading people to see Orlando’s indecision. “I know, lad, it’ll only take us a couple of minutes to check then we can be on our way.”

Orlando looked at him in something akin to horror before the truth of the situation dawned on him and with a deep sigh he murmured, “I suspect that all my previous ideas are going to need to change.”

“I can go alone, if you would prefer not to see him but you’re the doctor….” Sean suggested.

Orlando shook his head. “No, you’re right; we need to do this first. A few minutes more or less isn’t going to make any difference to my dad’s condition if he was only starting to show symptoms of the illness three days ago.”

Sean hated to see him so downcast but there was nothing he could say to change the way things were. In silence they got back into the car. It took only moments to get back to Liam’s house and it didn’t need a doctor to confirm he was dead. Wordlessly, they put him in the grave alongside his wife and children and began to quickly shovel earth over him, working in silence.

They had finished their grisly task and were just about to leave when Sean saw the large diesel tank half hidden behind an outbuilding. Turning to Orlando he said, “It looks like Liam has a supply of red diesel. I’ll come back later and fill car’s tank and the cans.”

Orlando nodded. “Liam doesn’t need it any longer and I know he’d think it was better for you to use it than to let it go to waste.”

Sean got in and started the engine, waiting until Orlando climbed in alongside him. He waited in silence for Orlando to tell him where they needed to go next but he didn’t say anything, just kept his face turned away and stared out of the shattered side window.

“Orlando?”

“What?” He didn’t turn around when he answered but Sean detected a catch in his voice

“Where do I need to go?”

“Straight on towards town. It’s okay, we don’t have to go through the centre, Dad’s house is on the outskirts.”

“Fine.” Sean put the Land Rover in gear and pulled away. In his rear view mirror he saw Liam’s house disappear in the distance and wondered just how long it would be before the surrounding vegetation removed any sign that anyone had ever lived there.

Following Orlando’s whispered directions they soon reached what looked to Sean to be a very nice neighbourhood. Though perhaps neighbourhood was slightly too strong a word for the collection of six or seven large houses fronting onto the small lane. Each plot was huge with large gardens surrounding every one of the properties.

“The one we want is at the end there.” Orlando pointed to what was probably the smallest house in the row. Even so, Sean’s small terraced house would have fitted into the front garden at least twice.

“Looks like a nice place,” Sean said as he halted in front of a closed gate, behind which a short driveway led up to the front of the building. Still in silence Orlando hopped out and jogged over to open the gate. As Sean drove through he called out, “Go around to the right. There’s a garage there where you can hide the Land Rover.”

When Sean rounded the house he saw why Orlando had said to go that way. The separate garage was huge, big enough for three cars but through the open door Sean could see it was mostly empty, with a small work bench along one wall. A Volvo estate car sat crookedly in the driveway, the driver’s door half open as though the owner had needed to hurry away from the vehicle.

Orlando appeared around the corner of the house and Sean didn’t need enhanced abilities to predict what would happen next. As soon as he saw the abandoned vehicle, Orlando headed for the back door, almost crashing through it in his rush to get inside. Grabbing his keys and a gun, Sean followed more cautiously.

Moving slowly and holding his weapon in front of him, Sean entered the house. He could hear Orlando’s shouting, “Dad! Dad!” as he rushed around and Sean decided to let him get to his father first, he’d keep his presence hidden at least until he knew what the situation was. There was a slim chance there were others in the house and someone needed to keep their wits about them.

Making sure the ground floor was clear; Sean locked the back door before following after Orlando. He could hear him moving around upstairs, opening doors, so Sean knew he wasn’t in any immediate danger. Staying alert, Sean started climbing the stairs, hugging the wall at his back and keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the upper landing.

He reached the next floor and counted four doors leading off the landing. At least they were all standing open. Guessing that Orlando must have opened them all and glanced into each room during his search for his father, Sean left them and headed for the one furthest from the stairs, which, if he had kept track of direction, would look out over the front of the property. He could hear Orlando taking to someone there so he risked a quick glance into the room.

Orlando had his back to him and he was sitting on one side of a double bed that occupied part of the room. He’d propped himself, with one arm, across a motionless figure that was lying on the bed; his father Sean surmised.

He turned when Sean took a step into the room and said, “He’s unconscious and dehydrated, I need to get some fluids into him. What first aid equipment do you have with you?”

“I’ve got a field medical kit; it should have everything you need.”

“Can you get it for me?” Orlando didn’t even wait for him to respond before turning back to the man in the bed.

Sean didn’t bother to argue that it was probably a waste of supplies; instead he headed down the stairs. He’d get the kit but while he was there he’d check out their surroundings and make some attempt at securing the property while he worked out what to do next.

~~~~

Sean checked on Orlando a couple of times during the morning, but each time he was sitting in the same position, on the bed, beside his father.

Feeling a little useless with nothing to occupy himself, Sean decided to see what he could do about getting the house in a fit state to withstand an attack. There was nothing he could do to protect it from a concerted assault by well-armed troops but he was sure he could do enough to keep Orlando and his father safe from any crazies who might pass by. It might all be academic anyway as Sean was pretty sure that Orlando’s father would wake up mad in the next couple of days. 

Starting with the garage, Sean moved all of the weapons into the house before using some spare timber to reinforce the garage doors. It felt odd to be wandering around someone else’s home and using their things but Sean persevered because Orlando’s safety was important to him. 

Fortunately, all the downstairs windows were fitted with strong internal shutters which would deter any casual intruders. As he moved around the ground floor of the house, closing the shutters and sliding home the bolts he saw many pictures of Orlando growing up. The earliest ones showed him mostly with a woman who had to be his mother, given the similarities in their colouring. In the ones from his early teens, Orlando seemed to be spending more time with his father. They were pictured on hillsides and wading through rivers. There were also a number of formal school portraits, with Orlando sitting stiffly, in his blazer and tie. It was almost like watching a film of him growing up, seeing the changes from year to year in the progression of images that travelled across one of the living room walls. The final image was of Orlando’s graduation and it showed him standing with his arm around an older man of similar height and build. It had to be his father but his grey and thinning hair told Sean that he hadn’t been in his twenties when Orlando was born.

Even if Orlando hadn’t told him how close he and his father were the pictures would have given it away. It made the situation they were now in so much more difficult. Sean hadn’t heard of anyone who had sunk into a coma coming out of it sane. He was also concerned that Orlando wouldn’t to try to defend himself against his father if he woke. Not that his increased strength wouldn’t be adequate but they were so close that Orlando wasn’t going to be able to bring himself to use sufficient force to put the old man down.

Despite only knowing him for a very short time, Sean had come to care about Orlando and it wasn’t just because they were fellow survivors. An expert at reading people, Sean was pretty sure that Orlando had the same preferences as himself and he very much wanted the opportunity to pursue that idea. But, he realised, this wasn’t the right time. 

With the ground floor secure he turned his attention to upstairs, wanting to check there was a clear field of vision around the entire circumference of the property. 

Orlando turned when he came into the front bedroom. “Everything okay, Sean?”

“Yeah, fine. Just checking the windows to make sure I can see all around the house.”

“Why?”

“In case the house is attacked. We would need to be able to cover all sides of it.”

“Is that likely?”

Sean shrugged. “I don’t know for sure but as I explained, the virus was designed to create a super soldier and one of the attributes of a good soldier is the ability to work and plan with others.”

“You think they are somehow instinctively working together then?”

“Maybe.”

“That’s a scary thought.” Orlando rubbed his arms with his hands as though to ward off a chill.

Sean nodded. “Yeah it is.”

Glad that they had at least broached the subject of Orlando being left alone, Sean made his way to the next bedroom. This was obviously a guest room as the bed wasn’t even made up.

In the last room, Sean saw the blood stained greens that Orlando had been wearing on the journey north thrown carelessly over the side of a laundry basket. Realising that this must be the room Orlando used when he visited, Sean looked around. He could see some clothes hanging in the wardrobe through the partially open door and when he slid open the top drawer of the small chest of drawers; he found a neat pile of ironed t-shirts. The chest of drawers, a double bed and a pair of beside tables made up all the furniture in the room. On the bedside table closest to the door there was a small framed picture of Orlando with his parents. Sean guessed that this was the last picture taken of them all together as his mother looked frail and much older than his father, which she hadn’t in the earlier photos he’d seen downstairs. Feeling that he was intruding, Sean checked the window quickly and headed back downstairs. His next job was to see what he could come up with for dinner. 

It was an hour later when Sean walked upstairs carrying two mugs of tea. He pushed open the door to the main bedroom and panicked for a moment. Orlando wasn’t sitting in his usual place; instead, he was slumped over on the bed and sharing a pillow with his father. 

Wanting to check that he was okay, Sean put the mugs down with a clatter on the bedside table. The noise woke Orlando and he sat up with a start, looking around wildly. “Dad?”

Having him move so suddenly when he was thinking the worst, made Sean jump and he knocked one of the mugs, slopping tea over his hand. “Fuck it!” Sean shook his hand in an effort to cool it down.

“Shit! I’m sorry, Sean. Let me look at your hand.”

“It’s okay. I was just surprised. I saw you lying there and....” Sean let his words tail off, he didn’t want to wreck Orlando’s hope that his father would recover just yet.

Orlando tilted his head and looked at Sean in puzzlement for a moment or two until the penny dropped. He spoke hurriedly as though to convince both of them. “There’s been no change. He hasn’t moved at all. I’m going to have to think about turning him regularly to avoid bed sores if he’s like this for much longer.” 

Abruptly changing the subject Sean said, “Well, I’ve brought you some tea. I hope you don’t mind it black as there’s no milk.”

Orlando stood and stretched awkwardly, rubbing at the middle of his back. His movements caused the t-shirt to shift, giving Sean a brief glimpse of tanned strip of skin above the waistband of his jeans. 

“Are you okay?” Sean managed to get out despite a mouth as dry as the Sahara.

“Yeah, just a bit stiff. A night spent in the car and then falling asleep there wasn’t the best thing to do.” Orlando picked up the tea and took a cautious sip before walking over to the window and standing to look out. “I can’t see any sign of movement out there.”

“I’ve been keeping watch periodically and haven’t seen anything, apart from a few rabbits. The views are great though, I could look at those hills for ages.”

“Me too. When I come home, Dad and I go out walking. The weather was good and we managed to get to the top of Skiddaw when I was here over Easter.” Turning so that his back was to the window, Orlando perched on the narrow window sill. He stared hard at his mug of tea for a moment before lifting his head. “I’m really grateful for your help in London, Sean, and for you bringing me here but you don’t have to stay any longer. I know you’ve got somewhere else you need to be.”

“It’s okay; I can spare a couple more days. Unless, of course, you’d rather I moved on.”

“Would you? I mean are you sure?” Sean couldn’t miss the look of relief that crossed Orlando’s face and was glad that he had made the offer.

“Yeah, of course I am. I wouldn’t have suggested it otherwise.”

~~~~

Sean gave the mixture in the saucepan a final stir and walked over to the kitchen door. “Orlando, I’ve made some dinner, you going to come down here to eat?”

His disembodied voice floated back to Sean. “Yeah, I’ll be down in a couple of minutes.”

While he was waiting, Sean shared half the stew between two plates. It smelled good and his stomach was rumbling happily at the prospect of something warm to eat. Despite it being the middle of June the day had turned unseasonably chilly and now a fine drizzle was falling. Outside the hills had disappeared, covered in a dank mist.

Sean carried the two plates over to the old oak table that occupied most of the kitchen just as Orlando clattered down the stairs.

Orlando made a beeline for the sink and washed his hands. “That smells good. Did you find it in Dad’s freezer?”

Sean sat down and picking up a fork, lifted some of the stew out of the bowl. It was hot and he had to blow on it before he could risk eating. Around the mouthful of food he mumbled, “No, I found the meat in the freezer, it was defrosting because the power is off. I found the vegetables in the larder. It’s lucky the stove is gas so it still works.”

Orlando took a mouthful and nodded, “It’s good.”

They ate in silence for several minutes and Sean used the time to try to work out how he was going to broach the subject of what to do about his father to Orlando. Sean had a pretty good idea that the older man wasn’t going to come out of his coma in good shape.

“How’s he doing?” Sean asked eventually.

“He’s okay. I’ve set up a drip to rehydrate him but he’s still unconscious.”

“I’ve seen the figures for this illness, Orlando; you do know he’s unlikely to come out of this unchanged?”

“I’ve seen it up close and personal when I was at St Thomas’s, so I know what’s likely to happen to him.” Orlando snapped back.

“So what are your plans?”

“I have no fucking idea.” Orlando dropped his fork onto his nearly empty plate and pushed himself up and away from the table. He was heading for the door when Sean spoke, hoping to stop him.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be harsh but it’s something we’re going to have to deal with.” Sean let his voice taper off. It was unlikely that Orlando would consider drastic measures until his father woke as a raving lunatic but by then it could well be too late. Especially if he caught Orlando by surprise; having enhanced strength was no guarantee that he would use it to protect himself. 

Orlando turned to face him. “We’re going to have to deal with? I don’t think so, Sean. I’m grateful to you for your help but he’s my problem. It’s okay if you want to leave, I can cope on my own.”

“Can you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Orlando snapped as he came back into the room by a pace or two.

Sean sighed, this was not going well. He wished he’d worked out what he was going to say up front instead of going off unprepared. But now that he’d begun he had to say what was needed. “What are you going to do when he wakes up? You know as well as I that he’s not going to be the same person. He’ll try to kill you because all you’ll be to him is a source of food. And don’t forget there are probably lots of other crazies not that far away. What are you going to do if they attack the house? You have no way of defending somewhere this big yourself, and once they have the house surrounded, you’ve got no way of escaping.”

“What do you suggest?” Orlando’s tone was icy and Sean was glad he’d nearly finished his dinner because his appetite had fled.

Sean thought quickly. He had to come up with a plan that didn’t overlook Orlando’s feelings for his father but still gave Sean the time to make his meeting with Viggo. He had between three and six days to reach Mallaig and he wanted to allow at least two for the journey just in case he had to make a detour. He also realised he had to give Orlando more information about where he was going and why if he wanted to persuade him to come too. 

“I’m going to meet an old friend. He’s a doctor too but he specialised in virology. He’s been saying for a while now that certain people were trying to recruit him to work on the project to create soldiers with enhanced abilities. He refused to cooperate with them but they are trying to find him and I promised to help him. I want you to come with me.”

“Why?”

“Because I think those of us who survived sane need to stick together.” Sean knew that answer wasn’t the whole truth but it was as much as he wanted to reveal just now.

“What about Dad?”

“He should wake up in the next couple of days. We can wait and see how he is when he wakes but if he’s mad...” Sean let his voice tail off.

The fight went out of Orlando, his shoulders slumped and he wrapped his arms around himself, bowing his head until Sean couldn’t see his face. When he spoke, Sean could only just hear him.

“He had always been a very proud person. Just the thought of him raving and screaming mindlessly is awful. He wouldn’t want to live like that. He wouldn’t intend to hurt me but I know it could happen because he won’t be able to control himself. I probably wouldn’t fight him either, in case I hurt him.”

Sean stood and moved closer to Orlando. “I’ve got something that would do the job, if it was needed.”

“Fuck it, Sean, I’m a doctor, I’m supposed to preserve life, not end it. I stood up and swore to abide by the Hippocratic Oath only a couple of years ago. And this is my father you’re talking about, for God’s sake!” Orlando covered his face with his hand.

Sean moved closer and when their bodies were flush against each other he pulled Orlando into his arms. Orlando didn’t fight the contact; instead he buried his face against Sean’s shoulder. 

Stroking his back, Sean tried to soothe him with his words. “I know, lad, but these aren’t normal times. I don’t think times are ever going to be normal again. A doctor’s job is to ease suffering. In the past that was accomplished with drugs and pain relief. Now it’s more likely that you’ll ease suffering by putting people out of their misery. I know it won’t be easy because it’s against everything you were taught, but I’ve been a soldier and I’ve seen men begging for death to end their agony. It’s never easy but I’ve done it when there was no hope.”

“I don’t know if I can,” Orlando said brokenly.

“It’s okay, we’ll wait until the time is right and then we’ll decide what needs to be done. You won’t be alone; I’ll be here for as long as you need me.”

As he spoke those final words, Sean hoped he would be able to keep that promise and not let either Viggo or Orlando down.


	6. Day 34: 15 June 2003

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Orlando has to make a difficult decision

Sean couldn’t understand what had woken him until he heard the sound of footsteps crunching on the gravel paths that surrounded the house. Blessing his enhanced hearing while, at the same time, cursing because he’d allowed himself to become complacent after two days with no sign of anyone, he eased himself off the bed. He picked up the machine pistol from the bedside table and walked silently over to the window. 

In the early morning half-light he could see three men gathered around the Volvo. They were searching the car, throwing its contents aside haphazardly as they discarded them. Sean thanked providence that he’d locked the Land Rover away in the garage and brought all the weapons inside. Fortunately, it appeared there wasn’t a lot of thought or logic going into what the crazies were doing so he hoped that their finding the car was merely opportunistic. They certainly weren’t paying much attention to the house or its occupants.

Sean spun around as Orlando entered the room. He whispered frantically, “Sean, there’s someone at the front of the house. They are trying to get in but the shutters and door are stopping them for now.”

“They’re out the back too.” Sean walked over to the cache of weapons he had brought into the room with him and handed a rifle and box of ammunition to Orlando. “Here, you said you could use this. Keep watch and if they look as though they are going to get inside, take them down.”

“But I can’t just shoot them,” Orlando whispered back helplessly.

“You can and you will. We are your dad’s only hope of survival if he wakes up sane, so we can’t afford to let them get inside the house.”

Orlando stood rooted to the spot for a moment and then, accepting the inevitable, he nodded before heading out the door with his head down. Sean felt a moment of regret about using the danger to his father to pressurise Orlando. But, in Sean’s mind, getting him to take the rifle was a positive step towards Orlando becoming used to the idea that he would need to think about defending himself from now on. Despite that, Sean was hopeful the crazies would lose interest and just go away before any shooting became necessary.

The men outside milled around for a while longer and it looked like they were on the verge of moving off when suddenly banging and crashing started up from the other bedroom. Two of the crazies immediately began throwing themselves violently against the back door. The third picked up a log that had been standing in the garden and made to throw it at one of the downstairs windows. Concerned that the shutters might not hold against the log, Sean decided on his priorities. Sliding the window up he waited for the screech of wood against wood to draw their attention and then, with clinical detachment, he sprayed a burst of gunfire into the group. Two fell and didn’t move again; the remaining one lay still for a moment and then began to crawl towards the cover of some bushes. Sean shot him again before slamming the window shut and heading into the other room.

Reaching the doorway he saw the source of the noise. Orlando was struggling for possession of the rifle with his father who was exhibiting the strength of one demonically possessed. While Orlando fought in silence, his dad was grunting and growling, his breath rasping loudly in the confines of the room.

Striding forward, Sean used the butt of his gun to hit the older man on the back of the head. Without pausing he headed to the window, opened it and fired several bursts. The men outside went down and didn’t move. 

Breathing heavily, Orlando dropped to his knees beside his dad and looked up at Sean. “Can you give me a hand to get him back onto the bed?”

Thankful that Orlando didn’t seem to be angry with him for hitting the older man, Sean crouched down opposite him. “What happened?” 

“He woke up and I didn’t notice because I was watching out of the window. Then he jumped me.”

“He couldn’t have picked a worse time because our friends downstairs heard the noise and it focused their interest. It might be salvageable though, I got them all and hopefully there aren’t any others close by who will come to investigate the noise.”

Between them they lifted the older man, but as they were manoeuvring him onto the bed he started coming around and began to struggle. 

“That he’s waking already means I didn’t hit him too hard,” Sean offered.

“We’re going to have to restrain him,” Orlando muttered from where he was half lying on top of his dad pinning him down.

“Yeah, I know but the gaffer tape is in the back of the Land Rover and I don’t fancy trying to get it right now.”

“Can you hang onto him for a minute? I can use bandages from the first aid kit to tie him down.”

After a short struggle, they managed to subdue the older man. With utter dejection written all over him, Orlando made his way over to the wall and slid down it, sitting on the floor with his head resting on his knees.

The noise the old man was making didn’t abate in the least, the animalistic growls echoing around the room and making the hair on the back of Sean’s neck stand on end. For his own peace of mind as well as their safety Sean said, “We’ve got to shut him up or he’ll attract more crazies here.”

With a sigh, Orlando stood and moved back over to the bed. “I know. I’ll use more bandages to gag him. That should work for now. I just need to keep an eye on him so that he doesn’t choke.”

While wondering if that would be such a bad thing Sean looked Orlando over. Apart from the cut on his cheek which had re-opened and was bleeding sluggishly, he seemed unhurt. 

After muffling the older man’s growls with several layers of bandage Orlando let out a loud sigh. “I’m sorry, Sean, you were right, I couldn’t use my full strength against him and that’s why he was able to keep on fighting. He’s stronger because of the virus, but he’s my dad and deep down I know he’s really an old man.”

“It’s too late to worry about it now. We just need to hope that no more turn up because of the gunfire.” Sean realised he sounded brusque but didn’t know how else to phrase his concerns.

When Orlando didn’t reply Sean finally said, “I need to go and get rid of the bodies so that they don’t attract any scavengers. Lots of crows or foxes might well draw more crazies here searching for food.”

“What are you going to do with them?”

Sean thought for a moment. “I’ll take the Volvo, dump them a way off and make my way back here on foot.”

Orlando looked worried. “You’ll be careful, won’t you?”

With a half-smile Sean reassured him, “I’ll be fine.”

“Shall I help you load the bodies in the car?”

“No, I’ll manage. You could keep a look out from the window while I’m out there, just in case.”

“What do you want me to do while you’re gone?” Orlando spoke but all the while his eyes never left the figure thrashing on the bed.

“You’ll need to lock the door after me when I leave, then get back up here and keep your eyes open so that you’re ready to let me in when I get back. If anyone tries to get in, shoot them. I’ll get back as soon as I can.”

“Okay. Be as quick as you can.”

“I will. You take care too. Don’t let him get free. There’s some morphine in the first aid kit, use that to knock him out if you need to.” Orlando’s jaw set and it looked as though he was about to object but Sean grabbed his shoulder and gave him a shake. “No arguments. You need to put yourself first.”

~~~~

Sean walked carefully down the lane that led to the house. He stuck to the middle of the tarmac, knowing that he was making a clear target of himself but at least this way, he kept clear of the wooded areas that flanked the road. He’d dumped the bodies and the car more than a mile away without incident and had jogged most of the way back. Now he wanted to be cautious just in case there were still any crazies hanging around the house after the disturbance earlier.

He didn’t bother to open the gate to the property, vaulting over it easily, making sure he landed on the grassy areas surrounding the gatepost to avoid the noise caused by the stones on the driveway. He would still have to walk across some of the gravel but he hoped to be able to keep the sound to a minimum.

Looking up at the window of the master bedroom, he saw Orlando standing there, so he waved indicating that Orlando should come down and open the back door. 

Sean heard the bolts sliding free and as soon as the door opened he ducked inside, waiting while Orlando slid the bolts home again.

“How’s your dad been?”

“Quiet, not that he had a lot of choice as I’ve left the gag on. He’s wearing himself out though with all the thrashing around and I’m worried that he might pull out the drip. I’ve tried talking to him but he doesn’t recognise me or understand anything I’m saying to him.”

“I’m sorry.”

Orlando shrugged before turning to head back towards the stairs. “It’s not your fault. It’s those bastards who started the plague.”

Sean followed him up and into the main bedroom. Nothing much had changed. Orlando’s father was still bound to the bed with a strips of bandage tied around his mouth as a gag. When he saw them come into the room he began struggling more violently, his movements making the bed shake and thump against the bedroom wall.

Grabbing the footboard, Sean pulled the bed away from the wall to stop the noise while Orlando walked over to the window and stood with his forehead pressed up against the glass, ignoring his father. He waited until Sean was close and then said, “The blood I gave him when we got here doesn’t seem to have made any difference so I’m going to try knocking him out with some morphine for a few hours.”

“Blood? What blood?” Sean found himself only concentrating on Orlando’s initial words.

Orlando looked down before he answered, “Well, I wondered if there was something in my blood that would help him, you know like a vaccine, so I bled myself and gave it to him. We are the same blood type so I knew there was no risk of rejection.”

“And the morphine?”

“I want to see if I can get through to him when he comes around.”

Sean opened his mouth to explain just how risky he thought that might have been but then he held his tongue. Orlando was fine and if experimenting kept him hoping for a bit longer that his dad could recover then Sean wasn’t going to destroy that.

It was a false hope; Orlando’s dad wasn’t going to improve, no matter how long he was kept unconscious. Sean had seen the initial intelligence reports and despite the experimental work done by medical experts the whole world over, there had been no way found to reverse the genetic damage caused by the virus.

Sean didn’t bother to voice an opinion; Orlando knew the score as well as he did. What worried him was now that they’d had one brush with the local crazies, they were running out of time. Also, tonight was the first one when Viggo was going to be waiting in Mallaig for him. Sean was determined that Orlando wasn’t staying behind on his own, even if it meant that Sean had to knock him out and haul him out of the house over his shoulder.

~~~~

Because of the shutters covering the windows, it was dark in the kitchen so Sean had lit two candles in holders on the table while he warmed up more of last night’s stew for dinner. 

He shouted up the stairs, “Orlando, you ready to eat now? I’ve heated up some more of the stew.”

“Yeah, give me a bit longer, he’s waking up.”

When Orlando walked down the stairs fifteen minutes later Sean didn’t need to ask how his dad was. It was written clearly on his face.

Sean dished the stew out onto plates, put them down on the table and sat, picking up his knife and fork. Orlando took the chair opposite him but made no effort to begin a conversation. Occasionally Sean could hear muted bumping noises from upstairs but Orlando didn’t react at all to the sounds, just lowered his head and continued eating.

When they had both finished, Orlando stood quickly picking up their plates and carrying them over to the sink. Sean waited while he rinsed them but he knew they had reached the point where they needed to have a serious talk about what was going to happen next.

Orlando went to head back upstairs and Sean stopped him. “Can we talk about your dad for a minute?”

Orlando stopped and leant against the wall beside the doorway, his arms crossed in a posture that could easily be read as defensive. “What’s to talk about? I’ve tried everything I can think of and it hasn’t made any difference. I’ve read the bulletins that were sent round to all the A and E departments and there hasn’t been a single documented case, anywhere in the world, of these changes being reversed. I know there’s no hope and that he’s not going to get any better but I have to stay with him, until the end.”

Sean tried to choose his words carefully. “Have you had any thoughts on what that might mean?”

Abruptly, Orlando crossed back to the table. He pulled out a chair and sat down, but he avoided Sean’s gaze. The silence stretched out until Orlando said, “I honestly have no fucking clue.”

“Do you want to talk about it? Try to look at your options?” Orlando was intelligent but he understandably had a huge emotional investment in the situation. Sean hoped that by talking ideas through they could get to the solution that Sean knew was the only practical one.

Orlando leant forward and rested his head on his crossed arms. “I’m so tired, I can’t think.” His voice was faint, but Sean could hear him clearly enough.

“Okay, let me talk.” Sean took a deep breath and began. “We could turn him loose and let him take his chances with the other crazies. If we keep him tied down and somehow manage to keep him hydrated he could last for two months or more, but effectively you’d be starving him to death.”

“I know.” Orlando’s voice was still muffled.

“If you keep him here you’ll have to do everything for him including cleaning him up. Have you given any thought to how you’re going to do that on your own? It’ll be risky because you’ll have to untie at least his legs to do that. Even with your increased strength and all the rest, you’ll need to sleep some time. You’ll also have to keep a look out for crazies and find more food from somewhere because the stuff in the freezer isn’t going to last much longer without any power.”

“Yes, I know all that too.”

Sean leaned across the table and rested his hand on Orlando’s arm. “I can only stay for another couple of days and I’m worried about leaving you here alone with him. Do you really think you can survive here for up to two months on your own?”

Orlando raised his head and looked straight at him, it didn’t take Sean’s improved eyesight to see the tears gathering in Orlando’s eyes. He shook his head slowly, “What can I do, Sean? He’s my dad and I love him. There’s only been the two of us for the last ten years so we’ve always been there for each other...” His voice faded to nothing.

“I can’t tell you what to do, lad, you have to decide that for yourself. But put yourself in your dad’s shoes. What would he want you to do, knowing that you can’t cure him?”

Finally, after a long silence, Orlando said, “I’m going to have to put him out of his pain and misery. It’s what he would want.” He began rubbing his hands together as though he was cold. “I’ll have to use some of the morphine to give him an overdose and let him fall asleep… forever.”

The anguish in his eyes told Sean just how much he was hurting. Orlando had found himself in an impossible situation and it had taken a huge amount of courage to come to the decision he had. Breathing a sigh of relief at the outcome, though he hated himself for feeling that way, Sean said, “And afterwards, what will you do? Will you think about coming north with me?”

Orlando’s voice shook when he answered. “I don’t know. I can’t think that far ahead right now. All I can think about are all those years of training wasted because I can’t even save my own father.”

“You tried, lad. Don’t be so hard on yourself; the top medical minds on five continents weren’t able to find a cure so it’s not surprising that you weren’t able to either, especially with no equipment.” Sean waited a moment but it was inevitable he would make the offer even though he was a hundred per cent sure that Orlando would refuse it. “Do you want me to…?” 

“Thanks, Sean, but no. This is something I have to do. It’s the last thing I can do for him. If I’m going to be able to look at myself in the mirror I need to be able to remember that I found the courage to let him go.”

Sean nodded in understanding. 

“When...?”

Orlando shrugged. “Waiting is not going to do anything other than make him weaker and increase the risk of more crazies finding us here, so I suppose tonight’s as good a time as any.”

Sean reached over to one of the worktops and picked up a bottle of Scotch. He showed it to Orlando. “Do you want some of this?”

He shook his head. “No, maybe later; I think I’ll go and sit with him for a while now.”

“Do you want some company?”

“No, thanks, I’d prefer to be on my own. He won’t understand but I need to explain to him why I’m doing this.”

“Okay, but I’m here if you need me.”

Sean waited at the table as Orlando climbed to his feet. His hand rested briefly on Sean’s shoulder before he left the room. 

Sean had no idea how long it would take for Orlando to bring himself to do the deed. Once it was done though, the end would be quick and painless. Orlando would make sure of that.

Sean walked around checking the shutters downstairs, making sure they were secure. At least if he was busy it would take his mind off the events unfolding upstairs. That accomplished, he went through all the cupboards on the ground floor of the house checking for any medical supplies or food that they could take with them. 

It was more than an hour later when Sean heard Orlando’s steps on the landing upstairs. Heading towards the stairs Sean paused at the bottom when he heard the bathroom door shut and the sounds of Orlando being violently sick. Finally, when he heard water running in the sink he began to climb the stairs. On reaching the landing he glanced into the darkened front bedroom to see a blanket shrouded figure lying motionless in the middle of the double bed. In the pale moonlight streaming in through the window, he could see some discarded strips of bandage on the carpet.

He met Orlando on the landing as he came out of the bathroom. His face was blotchy, and his expression was bleak. Without thinking how he might react Sean pulled the younger man into his arms. After a brief moment of resistance, Orlando slumped against him and Sean could feel him shuddering with the effort to control himself.

“It’s okay, lad, just let it out.” He spoke softly and calmly, as though he was reassuring a spooked horse.

Finally, after several minutes, Orlando took a gasping breath and pulled back, his face was wet with tears. “He called me Orli. Just before he closed his eyes, he looked at me and I know he recognised me. He called me Orli and thanked me.”

“Orli?”

“His nickname for me. He never liked Orlando but it was the name my mother chose. There’s no one left to call me that any longer.” Orlando spoke wistfully.

“You did the right thing. He’s at peace now.” Sean found himself stumbling over his words. He could only imagine how much courage it had taken Orlando to take that step and he prayed he would never end up in a similar situation.

“It doesn’t feel like it at the moment.”

Even though what he really wanted to do was pull Orlando back into his arms and comfort him further, Sean steered him into the room he’d occupied the night before and pushed him towards the bed. “Go on, get some sleep. I’ll keep watch.”

Obediently, Orlando walked over and sat on the bed, looking unbearably young and lost. Just before Sean closed the door he said quietly, “I want to make sure he’s not disturbed, Sean. Can we bury him tomorrow before we leave?”

“Digging a deep enough hole will take some time and while we don’t need to leave here tomorrow, if we start digging it is going to make it obvious that someone is in the house.” Sean thought quickly trying to come up with an alternative. Finally he suggested, “When we are ready to leave, how about we make the house into a funeral pyre for him? I’ve got some incendiary bombs that will guarantee the place is totally destroyed. It would be like a cremation rather than a burial.”

“Won’t that draw attention to us? Act as a magnet for the crazies in the area?”

“Even if it does, we’ll be long gone. We’ll wait until we are completely packed and I’ll rig a fuse so that we can set it and take off. How does that sound?”

After a moment’s thought, Orlando gave him a sad smile. “That would be good. And thank you for everything you’ve done here, I’m really grateful.”

Sean took a step forward again torn between comforting the young man and leaving him to try and get some desperately needed sleep. However, Orlando didn’t seem to see him. He turned away, lying down and rolling over so that all Sean could see was his back and shaking shoulders. Realising that this wasn’t the right moment, Sean moved back to the door, understanding that for now Orlando needed to grieve alone. He hesitated briefly and then pulled the door almost shut; ignoring the muffled sound of heart-rending sobs being stifled by a pillow.


	7. Day 35: 16 June 2003

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sean comforts Orlando and they head north to meet up with Viggo.

Sean woke slowly, aware that Orlando was close by. He could hear him breathing and feel the bed moving almost imperceptibly with each of his exhalations. Sean guessed it was not much after four. The sun probably rose around four-thirty at this time of year so they still had a few hours before they needed to head out. 

Orlando was still asleep, his face finally relaxed from the grim lines of the previous few days, making him look a lot younger than his twenty-six years.

Last night, after listening to him pace restlessly for ages, Sean had gone into his room and had offered a friendly ear and half a bottle of pure malt he’d brought up from the kitchen.

Orlando had rambled on as he drank, telling Sean stories about his father and the things they’d done together. He was drunk and yawning constantly by the time Sean had lain down on the bed beside him. Without a word Orlando had moved closer, put his head on Sean’s shoulder and fallen asleep almost at once.

Sean had lain there for a good fifteen minutes wondering if he should move. In the end he’d stayed, offering comfort with his presence and, if he was truthful, hoping it would be a way of showing Orlando how he felt without the need to say the words. 

Now he couldn’t bring himself to get up. He was pretty sure which way Orlando’s inclinations ran because he hadn’t freaked either time Sean had held him and even though he had been drunk the night before, Sean sharing the bed with him hadn’t been a problem. If anything Orlando had welcomed his presence, taking the comfort Sean offered.

He really ought to get up; he needed a piss and if he stayed put and let himself consider how good it felt to be this close to Orlando, pissing would become a physical impossibility. Sean was about to lever himself upright when, with a mutter, Orlando rolled over until he was plastered against Sean’s back; then he wrapped an arm around Sean’s waist effectively trapping him.

Sean’s heart sank, what the fuck was he supposed to do now? Orlando was half asleep and likely still drunk; he probably had no idea what he was doing. Sean tried to lift his arm so he could extricate himself but Orlando made a noise of displeasure and tightened his grip. 

Deciding that the only thing he could do was wake him, Sean tried to turn over but as he did so he became aware of the hardness pressing against his butt. Oh sweet merciful Christ, Orlando was hard. Sean’s entire blood supply headed south. He tried desperately to convince himself that it was a perfectly normal and that Orlando probably needed a piss, just like he did himself. It was only when he felt warm lips against the skin on the back of his neck that he realised Orlando was wide awake and all his actions had been deliberate. 

As much as he wanted what Orlando was offering, Sean had to be sure that he was doing it for the right reason and not out of some misguided sense of gratitude. 

“Orli?” Sean twisted his upper body to try to see the other man’s face.

Orlando relaxed his arms and let Sean turn over. He looked pale and Sean suspected he had a splitting headache after the amount of scotch he’d consumed the night before. As they lay facing each other Orlando met his gaze steadily with no sign of embarrassment.

“Orli? It’s okay if I call you that?”

“I don’t mind. It’s kinda nice, really.” 

He smiled and Sean responded without thinking, his own mouth curving upwards. In response Orlando lifted one hand and rested it against Sean’s cheek, his fingers lightly tracing the curve over Sean’s cheekbone.

“What’re you doing?” Sean wanted to know.

“I would have thought it was pretty obvious.” 

Sean put his hand over Orlando’s and stilled its movement. “I need to know why you’re coming on to me like this.”

A blush covered Orlando’s features and he tried to pull his hand away. “I’m sorry... I just assumed... I mean, you kept hugging me and then shared a bed with me, I thought... A straight man wouldn’t have done that.”

Anxious to reassure him Sean said, “To put your mind at rest, your instincts were spot on, I’m bi but prefer male partners. And it’s not that I don’t want to, far from it. It’s just that I need to know why.”

Orlando sighed before he answered, “It’s not because I think I owe you, or any crap reason like that. I’ve spent most of my life studying and working ridiculous hours. I’ve always felt that I was trying to fill Dad’s shoes, and do what he expected of me, so I’ve not allowed myself to get involved with anyone in that time because there was always so much at stake.”

Puzzled, because Orlando’s behaviour didn’t speak of inexperience, Sean said, “You mean you’ve never...?”

“Of course I have. But it’s never been more than a quick fuck or at most a weekend with someone. I’ve only known you for what, four or five days? But you’ve been there during the worst time in my life, apart from when we lost Mum. We’ve survived the end of the world as we know it, Sean, and neither of us knows what the future has in store. I just want to feel good for a while before I have to face the reality of a world gone mad where anyone I’ve ever known is probably dead.” He rolled away from Sean and onto his back so that he faced the ceiling. “Is that really too much to ask for?” 

“No, it’s not.” Sean reached out and took Orlando’s hand, holding it tightly. “I’m not rejecting you; I just didn’t want to take advantage of you.”

Orlando rolled back to face him and Sean could once more see tears in his eyes. “You’re not and you wouldn’t; it’s not in your nature.”

“I’ve been a soldier and a spy and I’ve killed and sent others to their deaths. I can be a real bastard.” Sean knew it was important that there not be any false assumptions between them.

“I know, you’ve already said as much but that doesn’t mean that you’re not an honourable man.”

When Orlando’s hand rested on his waist and slid down over his hip and onto his thigh, Sean stopped resisting the inevitable. He wanted Orlando and was willing to risk almost anything for the opportunity to be with him, if only once.

~~~~

The man stretched out beneath him was beautiful; there was no getting away from it. Sean had looked his fill as they undressed each other, slowly, taking his time to admire the smooth skin covering a tight muscular torso, slim hips and long legs that were now wrapped around his waist. The realisation that their jobs required frequent testing meant they could dispense with the need for condoms and now, with every unfettered thrust into his partner’s body, Sean saw stars.

Holding Orlando’s hands stretched over his head, Sean increased his pace and Orlando met him halfway, lifting his hips into each stroke until Sean honestly couldn’t tell where he ended and Orlando began. They fitted and moved together perfectly.

“More, Sean.” Orlando’s gasped request was almost Sean’s undoing and his rhythm faltered for a few seconds, until he managed to regain control.

The sensation when Orlando’s body convulsed around his made Sean gasp; it was simply the most sensuous, most incredible experience he’d ever known. Pushing in as deeply as possible Sean felt his orgasm overtake him in long trembling waves of pleasure. 

“Oh fuck!” Sean’s arms gave way and he collapsed down onto Orlando, smearing come between their bodies. Concerned that he might be crushing Orlando, Sean tried to move away.

Instead Orlando tightened his arms. “No, stay, just for a little while.”

“I’m not squashing you?”

“No. It feels good. Your weight makes me feel secure. It anchors me.”

Sean buried his face in Orlando’s neck, enjoying the smell of sex and sweat that clung to them both. “Good. I like this too.”

When Sean felt himself slip out of Orlando’s body, he got up and found a cloth to clean them up. Job done, he climbed back into the bed and Orlando automatically curled up beside him, resting his head on Sean’s shoulder once more. Lying there, Sean couldn’t ever remember feeling so at peace.

Stroking his hand over Orlando’s back he said, “You’ll come with me to meet up with Viggo?”

“Viggo?” Orlando sounded adorably sleepy and confused.

“My friend the virologist, who I need to meet in the next few days.” 

“If you want me to I will.”

Pressing a kiss to Orlando’s hair, Sean said, “Of course I do.”

Orlando dozed off quickly, exhausted by the stress of the past few days, leaving Sean to try to work out what the bloody hell he was doing. His choice of career had meant that he’d had very few relationships. His sex life, with the notable exception of Viggo, had consisted of a number of nearly anonymous one night stands. Keeping secrets had become a way of life for him and as a result had forced him spend much of his time alone. He hadn’t thought it was fair to start a relationship with someone if you couldn’t be completely honest.

Despite only knowing Orlando for a few days, Sean had shared more with him than anyone other than Viggo. He’d let his guard down and Orlando had crept into his head and his heart. The problem was that Sean had no clue what Orlando wanted from him. Had the sex been, as Orlando had said, something to make him feel good for a while? Sean desperately wanted it to mean a whole lot more but at the moment he was infatuated enough to make the most of whatever Orlando was willing to offer.

~~~~

Sean waited outside the back door while Orlando brought the last load of their gear out of the house and took it into the garage. He packed it in the back of the Land Rover while Sean quickly turned on the gas taps in the kitchen and set the fuse of the incendiary bomb he’d left inside the house. He’d promised Orlando that he would destroy the house completely and he meant to keep that promise.

As he got in the car he handed a small remote control to Orlando. “There you go, wait until we get outside the gate and hit the green button. That’ll set off the charge.”

Sean started driving towards the gate when a nagging sensation made him stop the car.

”What’s wrong? Did we forget something?” Orlando queried.

“No. I’ve just got a bad feeling about going out by the front gate. I’m not sure why. Is there another way off the property?”

“There’s a gate that leads out into the field at the back of the house and if we cross that we can get out onto the main road.”

Sean made a snap decision. “Okay, let’s go that way.” He threw the Land Rover into a tight turn and headed back to the rear of the house. He split his attention between the rear view mirror and looking ahead as he drove. Moments later, when it must have become clear that they were not going to exit the property via the main gate, a large group of crazies appeared behind them.

“Fuck! Where are they all coming from?”

“Buggered if I know,” was Orlando’s response as he pointed to the left. “The way out is there, behind the garage. It’s going to be tight travelling this fast.”

Sean turned around the side of the garage and saw in horror that there was a barrier between them and the field. “Fuck, there’s a gate!”

“Don’t worry, it’s old and falling apart. Dad kept meaning to replace it. It’ll give way easily.”

“Okay. Have you got your seat belt on?”

“Yes.”

“Right, hold on, I’m going through.”

The wood of the gate squealed and buckled as the Land Rover hit it obliquely and Sean thought for a frantic moment that the wood wasn’t going to give way. As soon as it did, he steered them through the gap and they crunched over the wreckage. Once they were in the field he kept his foot hard down on the accelerator.

Despite the way they were being bounced around Sean saw Orlando pick up the remote. He shouted, “Wait until they are closer to the house. The remote has a range of more than half a mile; we can use the explosion to provide something of a diversion and maybe stop some of them.

Orlando turned to look behind them at the crowd coming past the house. “It’s a good thing you listened to your instincts. There are too many of them, we would never have got through.”

“I know.”

“How did they know we were there?”

“I’ve no fucking clue.” Looking in the rear view mirror again, Sean nodded to Orlando. “Okay do it now.”

Orlando pressed the button and for a heart-stopping moment nothing happened. Then, with a loud roar, the bomb detonated. The walls of the lower floor were blown out, bringing the upper floors of the house down and taking down most of the crazies. Immediately, fierce flames sprang up and raged through the wreckage, fanned into an inferno by the prevailing wind.

In a few moments they reached the other side of the field and fortunately the gate, which led out onto the road, was open

Finally, when they had been driving for several minutes, Orlando said, “So where are we going?”

“North, to Mallaig.”

“That’s the west coast of Scotland.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“There’s not much there.”

“Me and Vig went on a fishing trip there once.”

“Is that the final destination?”

“Sort of. Viggo’s going to meet us there and take us by boat to Barra, an island in the Outer Hebrides. It’s where he’s been hiding out for the last few months. He’ll be in an inlet near Mallaig tonight and for the next two nights between dusk and dawn waiting for us, but the sooner we can get there the happier I’ll be.”

Orlando was quiet again for a few minutes and then he asked, “You and Viggo. Is there something between you.”

“What do you mean?” Was Orlando suggesting he would cheat on Viggo and that what had happened this morning was nothing more than a pity fuck?

“Sorry, that came out wrong. What I meant to say was that if there is something between the two of you, you don’t have to worry about me, I won’t make things awkward.”

“Ya daft bugger. There’s nothing between us now.” Sean smiled fondly at Orlando’s earnest expression.

“But there was?”

“Yeah, but that was a long time ago. We’re better as friends because we’re too much alike.”

“And does Viggo feel the same?”

“What do you mean?” Sean asked a little worried.

“Well, you’ve said you’re better as friends and I’m wondering if Viggo feels the same.”

“Yeah, he does. It was him that ended it really.”

“Okay, then I’m looking forward to meeting him.”

“I think the pair of you will get along fine.” Sean couldn’t help smiling at the thought of the two of them meeting for the first time. It could be interesting and maybe Orlando could somehow help Viggo with his research.

They were around five miles outside Mallaig when Sean pulled off the main road and onto a side road that wound alongside an inlet from the sea. The tide was out, which meant that there was only a single, thin line of water running along its centre. “This is where we’re supposed to meet Viggo. He’ll be back as soon as it gets dark.”

Orlando stretched as much as he could in the cramped conditions in the car. “Thank God, we only stopped once in six hours after filling up with the diesel at Liam’s and I really need a piss.”

Sean looked around them, there was no sign of movement but even so he handed Orlando a pistol. “It looks quiet enough outside, just keep your eyes and ears open.” 

The only visible habitation was a house on the other side of the inlet which was very familiar to Sean. The front door was swinging back and forth in the wind and Sean suspected the owners were either dead or long gone.

“I’ll be careful and won’t go far.” Orlando opened the door and slipped out of the seat. He pushed the door closed and headed off into a small wooded area just beside the road. 

Sean watched him go and then waited impatiently for him to return. The drive north had been accomplished easily, without them seeing any signs of life, crazy or otherwise. There had been plenty of dead livestock in the fields that bordered the road, some crashed or abandoned cars but very few bodies , which made Sean wonder if something about the virus caused the bodies of the dead to decay much more quickly than normal. It wasn’t something he’d gleaned from the reports he’d seen but then the speed with which the disaster had unfolded had overtaken everyone. Orlando hadn’t been able to supply an answer to the question either when he had mentioned it.

In the scenario he had outlined to C less than a week ago, Sean had predicted that the population of the UK would fall to around ten thousand people and that they hadn’t seen anyone in three hundred miles, only seemed to confirm that forecast. 

If, for some reason, Viggo didn’t show, he and Orlando were going to have to stock up on staple foodstuffs to tide them over until they were in a position to work out a way of producing enough food to become self-sufficient. 

Of all possible career moves, Sean had never envisaged himself as a farmer…

Deciding he needed to stretch his legs too, Sean climbed out of the vehicle. The late afternoon sun was warm and he luxuriated in the complete and utter silence that surrounded him. Even with his enhanced hearing there were no sounds, other than the very natural ones Orlando was making, to intrude on the solitude. 

Moments later, Orlando re-appeared a few feet away and quickly joined Sean beside the Land Rover. “I’ve been thinking. You said that Viggo was going to come and get us in a boat.”

“Yeah.”

“What are we going to do with the Land Rover? Unless he’s got something pretty big with a ramp we’re going to have to leave it behind.”

“Yeah, I suspect he’ll come in a dingy and ferry us to a yacht or another craft that doesn’t need an engine so I thought we could hide her, in case we need to come back for some reason.” Sean patted the bonnet of the Land Rover fondly. 

Orlando looked around and then point across the inlet. “That place over there has got a garage. How about we store it there? There’s been no sign of life so I reckon it would be safe enough.”

“I’d had the same idea. Me and Vig stayed there a few years ago and it was only used as a holiday home then so I’m pretty sure it will be empty. Why don’t we drive over there now and have a look around while we’re waiting for it to get dark?”

“Okay.”

Sean started the engine and drove back to the main road, keeping the revs low so that they made as little noise as possible, then he took the first left turn. In moments they were in front of the deserted house. 

Orlando went to open the door but Sean stopped him. “Wait a second, I want to turn around so that we have a clear getaway, just in case.”

Once the car was situated to Sean’s satisfaction he turned off the engine. Before exiting the car, Sean picked up the MP5 and some spare ammo clips. Orlando still had the Sig so he hoped they would be able to cope if anyone came at them.

Locking the car and pocketing the keys, Sean headed cautiously towards the house. Using his improved hearing to listen carefully, he waited outside until he was as certain as he could be that the house was empty. Nodding to Orlando, he moved inside quickly, making sure he didn’t remain silhouetted against the light for longer than necessary. Once he was sure the room was empty, he waved Orlando inside.

With Sean in the lead they went through the house quickly and found that as suspected it was devoid of life. There was no sign that anyone had been there for some time. “Come on; let’s get the Land Rover hidden away. I want to offload all the gear and take it with us because it will come in handy but we can do that a bit later on. Viggo will moor up at the small jetty outside. We can see him from the window so it probably makes sense to wait in here ourselves.”

Orlando looked out at the sky. “How long do you think until it gets dark?”

“At this time of year and this far north? Maybe elevenish?”

Together they walked out of the house and around to the garage. The door opened easily and, like the house, it was empty. Sean threw Orlando the keys. “Turn the Land Rover around and drive it straight into the garage, that way it’ll be easier to unload. I’ll stand in front to guide you as it will be a bit tight.”

As soon as Orlando had got the Land Rover inside he turned off the engine. Sean edged along the side of the vehicle; after closing the garage doors, he bolted them from the inside. The door into the house from the garage was a heavy wooden one which could be secured by a padlock. Sean had thrown one in the back of the Land Rover before he left MI6 so he felt confident he could keep the vehicle safe from any crazies that chanced upon the house. He’d just better not lose the padlock key if he wanted to use the Land Rover again.

Back in the kitchen, they searched through the cupboards to see what food was available. The sum total was a bag of pasta and some damp porridge oats. He turned to Orlando, “Are you hungry? We’ll need to get some rat-packs out of the car as there is nothing here that’s edible on its own.” 

Instead of replying, Orlando moved closer to him. He curled one hand around Sean’s neck and said, “You think we’re safe enough here to take a bit of time out for ourselves?”

The previous night had been so good that despite his misgivings, Sean wanted whatever Orlando was willing to share. “Yeah, I think so. The place is deserted and it doesn’t look like anyone has been here for weeks. There are no other houses close by so there aren’t likely to be any crazies around.” He pulled Orlando closer, wrapping one arm around his waist. “Why? Do you have something in mind?”

Orlando took a deep breath and Sean felt the movement up and down his body.

“Well, when we were looking around I noticed that there was a very comfortable looking bed upstairs.”

“You want to get some sleep then?” Sean teased. With Orlando pressing up against him as he was, Sean was under no illusion as to what he really had in mind.

“Don’t be a wanker.” Without giving him a chance to respond, Orlando leaned in, covering his mouth with his own. Reminding himself to live for the moment, Sean responded to the kiss.

When Orlando had admitted that he’d never been involved with anyone before, Sean had accepted, to maintain his sanity, that the time they’d spent together was likely to be a one off thing. But now, with Orlando initiating this kiss, Sean allowed himself the hope that he wanted something more.

The kiss ended and Orlando drew back a little but not so far that they had to release their hold on each other. “Are you over thinking this?” He frowned at Sean.

The temptation to shrug any serious emotion off was huge but Sean couldn’t do it so instead he said, “I honestly don’t know. I never felt it was right to get close to someone else when I couldn’t be completely honest with them. Now, with the world gone to hell I’m sure I’m being stupid to expect anything other than a simple fuck. I know I ought to take things as they come, take advantage of the opportunities and...” He floundered, running out of words.

Orlando gave him a gentle shake. “Listen, Sean. I know I told you that I’d never had a long term relationship but it wasn’t because I didn’t ever want one. I was studying and working long hours and knew it wouldn’t be fair to anyone to expect them to put up with that.”

Finally, allowing himself some sense of optimism, Sean said, “Does that mean you might see this as something a bit more serious then?”

“That’s why I wanted to know about you and Viggo. I didn’t want to allow myself to give in to wishful thinking if you were still involved.”

“I wouldn’t do that to anyone.”

“I know. I have a pretty good idea of the sort of man you are and I can’t imagine you cheating on Viggo, even if it was only to make me feel better.”

With hope in his heart, it was Sean who initiated the next kiss and Sean who took Orlando’s hand and led him upstairs to the bedroom.

Once there, Sean took his time, removing Orlando’s clothing with almost reverence, exploring every inch of skin that was revealed to him, finding the places that made Orlando moan or sigh. By the time they were both naked, Sean was so hard he could barely think straight. 

“It’s my turn now.”

“What?” Sean wondered if his confusion was because all his blood had now taken up residence in his cock.

“It’s my turn to make you feel good, lie back and close your eyes,” Orlando explained.

Sean rolled onto his back, bunched the pillow up under his head and closed his eyes. Orlando’s first touch made him jump and it was difficult to let himself relax and concentrate on his other senses but he persevered. All too soon he could hear the blowing of the wind that had begun to rise with the turn of the tide, feel the way the bed dipped as Orlando moved around him offering light teasing touches that had him moving restlessly against the sheets and smell the overpowering scent of their combined arousal.

Finally the touches stopped and he opened his eyes to find Orlando lying beside him, his head propped on his hand.

“Are you okay?” Sean asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Oh, only you stopped.”

“I want you to make love to me, Sean. Will you do that?” Orlando suddenly looked very young and insecure and Sean realised that this was probably the first time he’d ever made such a request.

“I’d like that.” Sean matched action to his words by rolling over until he was supporting himself on his knees and elbows, with Orlando lying quiescent beneath him. “Is like this okay?”

“More than,” Orlando breathed. “I want to watch your face.”

“Shit!” Sean cursed, “I forgot to bring the lube up with us.”

Orlando pushed Sean away, rolled and reached over the side of the bed. He fumbled around with his jeans for a moment, producing a small sachet from his pocket. “I found this at home and stuck it in my pocket; I hoped it might come in handy.”

Sean took the small packet and tore it open, squeezing some out, he covered his fingers and slowly prepared Orlando, making sure to rub over Orlando’s prostate several times.

The sublime feeling as he entered Orlando, hot, tight and yet so soft made him close his eyes and groan out loud. When he had gathered his wits and looked down, Orlando’s gaze was fixed on him.

“You okay?” Sean had to ask, Orlando’s concentration and stillness was unlike anything he seen from him before.

“More than. You feel amazing.”

“You do too.” Ducking his head Sean let their lips meet again for a moment.

Setting a gentle pace, Sean rocked his hips, increasing the speed and depth of his thrusts by minute increments. 

“Oh God, Sean, no more, I need you to touch me. Make me come.” Orlando gasped as he drew his legs up, clasping them around Sean’s waist.

There was barely enough room for Sean’s hand between their bodies but he managed to get his fingers around Orlando’s cock while balancing on the other arm. He didn’t have to move his hand at all before Orlando was bucking under him, moaning helplessly as he came.

Thrusting twice more, Sean buried himself in Orlando’s warmth, riding out the aftershocks. With a groan, he dragged himself away from Orlando. Collapsing onto his back, Sean waited until he could breathe easily.

“You’ll be the death of me. You know that?” Sean muttered as his head fell back onto the pillow. 

“Don’t say that, please.” Orlando’s voice was soft.

Turning, Sean saw the younger man was lying, staring at the ceiling. But the look of fear in his eyes was easy to spot. “God, I’m sorry, Orli. It was only a stupid figure of speech.”

Sean held out his arms and Orlando immediately huddled up alongside him.

“I’ve lost so many people; I couldn’t bear to lose you as well.”

Stroking one hand along his lover’s back Sean kissed him gently. “Don’t worry. I’ve no intention of going anywhere unless it’s at your side.”

“Good.” 

Orlando’s lips began moving over Sean’s chest and when sharp teeth tugged at one nipple he groaned. “Have mercy. I’m an old man.”

Orlando’s hand moved down Sean’s body and soon cupped his re-awakening cock. “Old man, my arse.”

Laughing, Sean adjusted Orlando’s position until he was sitting astride him. “I want you to ride me.”

Orlando’s smile was wicked but full of promise as he knelt over Sean. The sight, as he sank down, taking all of Sean’s cock in one slow slide almost pushed Sean over the edge immediately. Closing his eyes, Sean fought to keep his desire in check, but the alternate sensations of heat and cold as Orlando moved over him were quickly unravelling his control.

Soon Orlando’s movements grew ragged, his breath came in shallow gasps and at last Sean let go. Holding Orlando’s hips in an iron grip, Sean lifted his hips, thrusting hard, once, twice until he couldn’t hold on any longer. With a shout of completion he exploded, filling Orlando with his essence. Orlando came almost at once, without either of them needing to touch his cock.

He collapsed on top of Sean who could do nothing apart from hold him until their breathing evened out.

Eventually, they slept.

~~~~

Hoping to allow Orlando to catch up on some sleep Sean got up slowly, trying not to disturb him. He pulled on his trousers and walked over to the window, instinctively standing to one side of the opening so that he couldn’t be seen from outside. The tide had turned and the inlet was now almost fully covered with water, even though it still looked fairly shallow. From the position of the sun Sean reckoned it was about nine o’clock which meant Viggo should arrive in a couple of hours. He was just thinking that he ought to get some food ready when Orlando began to stir. Soon he heard the bed creak slightly and then footsteps behind him as Orlando padded across the floor.

Stopping behind Sean, Orlando slipped his arms around Sean’s waist and rested his chin on Sean’s shoulder so that he could look out of the window too. The skin of his chest was warm against Sean’s back.

“See anything?” His breath ghosted across Sean’s ear, making his shoulders twitch.

Sean shook his head, careful not to bump Orlando on the nose. “No, nothing. It feels like we are the only ones left.”

“Yeah, I know. It feels weird and I can’t help thinking that it’s all a joke and any minute now people will jump up out of their hiding places, yell surprise, and everything will be back to normal again.”

Resting his hands over Orlando’s, Sean entwined their fingers, squeezing them gently in lieu of an answer. 

The idea that Orlando was standing behind him stark naked while he was wearing some clothes was arousing and Sean was trying to calculate if they had enough time or energy for another round before they had to get ready to meet Viggo when Orlando said, “Thank you again for helping me with my dad. I couldn’t have done it without you.” 

Turning inside Orlando’s grasp, Sean put his hands on the sides of his face, lifting his head a little higher so that he could see his lover’s eyes. The pain and sorrow there was as good as a bucket of cold water for reducing Sean’s eagerness. 

“There’s no need to thank me, I’m glad I was there for you.” Desperate to let Orlando know that he wanted to be with him for more than sex – though that was very good - Sean took a deep breath and continued, “I’ll try my hardest to always be there when you need me.”

Orlando gave a half smile. “I know and I’m grateful. It’s just difficult to reconcile meeting you with what has happened.”

“I understand. It just seems to me – and I hope I don’t sound clichéd or any other shit like that – that we ought to live our lives to the full, for however long we have, to honour the memory of all those we’ve lost.”

With no sense of the solemnity of the moment Orlando’s stomach gurgled loudly and he grinned. 

“Sounds like you’re hungry.”

“Yeah, I am.” 

“You’ve probably not eaten enough for the past couple of days. Let’s get cleaned up and we can raid the supplies in the Land Rover.”

Orlando sighed. “I’d love a shower but I guess those are going to be a thing of the past. I bet we’ll be back to tin baths in front of a fireplace or skinny dipping in freezing cold water in no time.”

Sean smiled. “I might be able to help with that. While I was waiting for you to take a leak earlier, I noticed some solar panels have been added to the roof, so there should be some hot water. There won’t be much pressure for the shower but it’s better than nothing.”

“Really?” Orlando’s face lit up.

Sean shrugged. “Yeah, I think so. Well, with this being a rental property mostly I bet it helped with the cost of heating the water as guests probably weren’t too careful over the fuel bills.”

“We’d better share the shower, just to make sure we both get some hot water,” Orlando said trying to keep a shit-eating grin off his face.

“Definitely,” The change in expression immediately banished the sadness from Orlando’s eyes and Sean couldn’t help but smile in return.

~~~~

After a quick shower, where they’d both been restrained enough to only help each other get clean, Sean went into the garage and collected some food packs from the back of the Land Rover. Saving everything, apart from the two main meals, for later, they heated them and ate quickly while they were waiting for the sun to finally set.

“So, what’s the history between you and Viggo? How did you meet originally?” Orlando asked, sitting back in his chair.

“I can’t really talk about it; there is privileged information involved.”

“Ah, Sean, I hate to break the news to you but there isn’t any government any longer. I can’t see anyone holding you to the Official Secrets Act. But if you’d rather not talk about it, because it’s too personal, that’s fine with me.”

Sean felt himself blush a little, Orlando had made a good point. “Sorry, lad, it’s an automatic reaction. I’ll try to change but you’ll probably have to keep on reminding me.” 

“I’ll try. So tell me how you met; as a first step.”

Sean thought back. “It was really a huge coincidence. I literally bumped into him in a pub near Kings Cross. We were both waiting for trains and had gone there for a pint because there were signalling problems and our trains were delayed. We got chatting; it was easy to talk to each other and before we knew it we’d been there for more than an hour. We got our trains but we’d exchanged phone numbers so we could meet up again when he was back in London.”

“Yeah, but how did you get together? It isn’t immediately obvious that you’re into men.”

“It took a while and we were friends for a time before anything else happened. By then Viggo had an idea that I worked for the government and realised by revealing my attraction to him that I was trusting him with my job, my future, everything. He never betrayed that trust, even when we went back to being friends.”

“Why did that happen? Was there anyone else for you?”

“Nah. I got sent to work overseas for a year or more and before I left we agreed to end it. He mentioned that he might have found someone else a while back, so there was never a chance of us getting back together again.”

“What’s he like?”

“He’s about my age, tall, not heavily built. He was always pretty keen on keeping fit.”

“I meant as a person.”

Sean shrugged, Viggo was a difficult person to characterise but he knew he had to try. “He’s passionate about causes he believes in. He’s caring and wants to help people. I think you and he are very alike in that respect; dedicated and principled. Viggo’s a virologist, I mentioned that already?”

Orlando nodded. “Yeah, you did.”

“Well, about eight years ago, he was working for one of the government research labs. I don’t rightly remember what he was working on. Knowing him it was probably a cure or vaccine for something. Always stood fast against any sort of germ warfare stuff did Viggo. Anyway, he hadn’t made a secret of his preferences and back then being gay was still considered prime blackmail material, so MI5 got tasked to check out his trustworthiness.”

“What? But you said you worked for MI6, so your work was based overseas. How did you find that out?”

“Viggo told me. He actually thought it was quite funny because whoever was running the show had no clue about gay men and certainly no imagination. They must have assumed that liking men meant you were in to youngsters so they tried to tempt him with someone far too young.”

“Young? Not underage surely? Jesus, Sean, I’ve seen far too many kids turn up in casualty because they have nowhere to go and the only way they can survive is by selling themselves. Surely the government doesn’t condone that sort of thing?”

Sean took Orlando’s hand to re-assure him that in this instance MI5 had acted correctly. But the younger man was still far too trusting, believing governments operated with honour and integrity. “No they wouldn’t go that far. Besides, someone that young isn’t Viggo’s type at all. But the idiot in charge didn’t figure that out so he sent in another lad with the same result. Vig isn’t stupid and he worked out what was going on pretty quickly. Because he thought they were acting like idiots and he didn’t want any part of their stupidity, he resigned and took himself off to work for a cancer charity.”

Orlando was silhouetted against the window, so it was difficult for Sean to see his features. But if anything, that made it easier to reveal his feelings. “When we were together I felt that I was the most important thing in his world. He made me feel whole. I’ve not felt that way since. At least not until I met you.” Sean corrected himself. He only saw the outline as Orlando ducked his head and Sean guessed he was embarrassed about Sean’s honest revelation. To change the subject and give Orlando time Sean asked, “What about you? Any previous history you want to tell me about?”

Orlando shook his head ruefully. “Not really. When I said that I’d never been serious with anyone; that was true. I’ve been studying to be a doctor since I was fifteen and haven’t had the time for any sort of commitment.” 

Sean was about to say something else when his attention was drawn by a different sound. He’d been aware of the noise of water lapping along the inlet for the past few hours, especially as the water level rose but now there was something else, something added. It was rhythmic and seemed to be getting closer.

Motioning Orlando to silence, he moved over to the kitchen window and glanced out cautiously. The river inlet was lit by the light of the setting sun and glowed in shades of red. Against the glare he could just make out the dark silhouette of a small dingy approaching the jetty in front of the house. Smiling, he turned to Orlando. “It looks like Vig is here. I’ll let him come ashore first, just to check everything is okay.”

Sean waited as the boat was tied up and a man, who was slightly taller and more heavily built than Viggo, climbed out onto the jetty. Even in the half light, Sean could see the weapon in his hand as he stood looking around. With the benefit of his enhanced vision, Sean could make out another man still sitting in the boat who might be Viggo but he wasn’t completely sure so he waited.

After several moments, the second man stood and climbed out onto the jetty. Sean muttered to Orlando, “That’s Viggo. I’m not sure who the other guy is.”

“What do we do?” Orlando whispered back.

“I want to make sure Viggo is okay before we go out there.”

They seemed to have reached a standoff when, giving a visible shrug, Viggo walked a few paces closer to the house and called out. “Sean, are you in there?” 

Raising his voice, Sean shouted in response. “Hey, Vig. This place hasn’t changed much since we were here. How long ago was it?”

“It was six years ago, in June.”

Sean turned to Orlando, “That’s the right answer. He would have said the wrong date if there had been a problem.”

Viggo shouted again. “Don’t worry about Steve here, he’s with me.”

“Okay, Vig, there are two of us and we’re coming out now.”

“Two?” Viggo questioned.

“Yeah, I’ve got someone here with me. His name’s Orlando and he’s a friend.”

Walking out of the house, Sean headed straight for Viggo, grabbing him in a rough bear hug as soon as he was close enough. Viggo returned the embrace with enthusiasm. Sean pulled back when he heard Orlando’s footsteps crunching on the gravel behind him.

Turning, Sean took Orlando’s hand and drew him forward.

“Vig, I want you to meet Orlando. We met in London and we’ve been travelling together since then.”

Sean saw a look of appraisal cross Viggo face before he turned to face Orlando. 

“Good to meet you Orlando. Sorry but I have to ask, for the safety of those back on the island, did you come through the virus like Sean?”

“Yeah, I did. I must have been exposed because I was working at St Thomas’s, but I never got sick. And now I’m pretty sure I have the enhanced abilities Sean knows about. My hearing is better, stuff like that.”

“Working at St Thomas’s? You’re a doctor?”

“Yeah, I was working as a registrar in casualty.”

“That’s great; you’ll be more than welcome on Barra. We don’t have a doctor and though I have medical training, I’ve not practiced in a long time.”

Sean watched the interchange between the two men with some trepidation. They were both important to him and it was vital for everyone that they got on well.

Viggo looked around and waved at the other man who had arrived with him. He was tall, slightly older than Sean and Viggo with broad shoulders and greying hair. But despite his age he was still someone to be reckoned with, giving out an air of quiet competence. He was ex-forces or Sean would eat his hat. The way he paced around slowly, keeping his eyes moving, watching and waiting gave Sean the feeling that he wouldn’t have to look far for help to keep Viggo safe.

Viggo must have seen him looking because he said, “That’s Steve, he’s a survivor like you two. I’ll introduce you properly once we get on board and are under way.”

Sean nodded. “Fine. I’ve brought a stack of supplies with me that we’ll need to load before we can leave.”

Viggo looked around. “How much stuff?”

“Probably four loads in the dingy, leaving enough room for one man to row each trip.”

Steve came over and interrupted their conversation. “If I take the first load out, I can use the motor to bring the yacht closer in. We’ve got the fuel to spare. It won’t take long and it’ll make the transfer of your gear quicker. If possible, I’d like to get out past Eigg before it’s fully dark.”

Steve’s Scottish accent was a soft Highland lilt. 

“Fine, let’s get moving. We’ve got a lot to do.” Viggo agreed.

~~~~

In the end it had only taken two extra trips to ferry all their gear on board Viggo’s ten metre motor yacht but despite working as fast as they could it had been dark before they set off. Now they were heading west and away from the mainland. Up ahead Sean knew, were the islands of Eigg and Rhum, but they were lost in the darkness. Turning to face land, Sean couldn’t see a thing, no lights, nothing. It was as though the yacht was the only thing left in the entire world. The sky overhead was clear and the Milky Way shone brightly. 

Orlando came and stood next to him, their shoulders touching. He tilted his head up to look at the sky. “I can’t remember the last time I saw the stars so clearly.”

“Yeah, well with the power stations going offline there’s no light pollution any longer. Mind you, that’s never been much of a problem this far north.”

“I read somewhere that after the September the eleventh attacks, when most air traffic was grounded for a few days, the variation in day and night temperatures increased by over one degree. I wonder if the affect will be more noticeable with a longer period without flights.”

“Who knows?” Sean shrugged.

He felt Orlando move closer and suddenly his mouth was close to Sean’s ear. “Maybe it will be that much colder at night that I’ll need you to keep me warm,” he whispered.

Sliding his arm around Orlando’s waist, Sean whispered back. “I’m willing.”

They moved apart when Viggo re-appeared on deck.

Viggo was smiling when he said, “Come on, Sean, let’s go below and make some coffee, it’ll give us a chance to catch up. Steve will want it soon. He’s going to have to navigate by dead reckoning so will need to be wide awake.”

Sean followed Viggo below and into the galley. Once the door was firmly shut, Viggo turned on a dim red light, to preserve their night vision, and busied himself with putting water on to boil. 

Sean waited for the questions to begin - he’d seen the curious look Viggo had aimed at the two of them earlier. 

“So what was it like in London?” Viggo said without preamble.

“Pretty awful but I think we got out before it got really bad.”

Viggo nodded and propped himself up against a small cupboard. “So how did you meet Orlando?”

“Our paths crossed just after I left Legoland. He was being chased by a bunch of crazies who had found him in St Thomas’s. He thought they had plans for him to be their next meal so he made a run for it. I helped him out and offered him a lift north because he was trying to get home to his father.”

“That can't have ended well.”

Sean shook his head for emphasis. “No it didn’t. The old man was unconscious when we arrived and dehydrated. Orlando got a drip going and hoped that he’d pull through.”

The kettle started making bumping noises indicating the water was nearly boiling so Viggo took four mugs from hooks and spooned instant coffee into them. “It’s black I’m afraid. There’s no milk.”

“No problem, I’m beginning to get used to drinking it like that.”

“I take it Orlando’s father didn’t make it?”

“No, he woke up a couple of days later as mad as a hatter and we had to restrain him. Eventually Orlando decided to euthanize him.”

“That couldn’t have been easy.”

“No, it wasn’t. He hated the idea that he couldn’t save him. But he did it though, because he knew it was what his dad would have wanted.”

“That took guts.” Viggo nodded approvingly.

“It did. I offered to do it for him but he refused. He said he could never live with himself if he couldn’t find the courage to do it.”

Sean’s eyes had easily adapted to the low light so he could see the speculative look on Viggo’s face so he asked, “What?”

“What do you mean, what?” Viggo gave a goofy grin at Sean’s exasperation.

Sean huffed. “Ask the question, Vig, I can see you’re dying to.”

Viggo grinned unrepentantly. “Have you slept with him?”

“Jesus, Vig, I’d almost forgotten how direct you can be,” Sean said trying to deflect Viggo’s interest.

“Yeah, I know. So answer the question.” He smirked again and Sean thought about slapping him.

“I have but it’s early days yet. We’ve talked and are both ready to wait and see what happens.” Sean attempted to change the subject. “Anyway, enough about us, what’s more important is to know what’s happening with you. When we spoke before I left London, you said you had problems with some other people.”

“Yeah, I know I did. I couldn’t say too much over the phone, in case they were listening-“

Sean interrupted him. “I wondered when you said that. There aren’t any forms of communication still working, how could these people have listened in to our conversation?”

“The group I think is responsible for this epidemic is very powerful, more so than a lot of smaller governments; it has even put its own satellites in orbit. It is based out in South East Asia and will have prepared for the possibility that the virus might escape. Unless I am way off track, those in charge will have organised shelters with everything they might need to get through the worst of it, including fully functional communications equipment.”

“So why are they after you?”

“They’ve been working on a project to develop a super soldier - someone who will be stronger and faster than average and have been trying to persuade me to work with them for the past ten years which is fucked because they should have known enough about me to know that wasn’t something I’d ever voluntarily be involved with. Now that the world’s gone to hell, I have no idea what they want unless maybe they think I can develop a cure for them.”

Well that explained the rumours Indi had mentioned of Viggo working on the virus. He hadn’t been working on it but those responsible had wanted him. And now, if they had survived they would sure as fuck want a vaccine. It would give them the ultimate power over the few survivors, not to mention safety in the case that they were exposed. 

“Come on, Vig, I know you’re good but every government lab in the world was trying to find a cure. How could you find something when all that manpower failed?”

“During the process of trying to persuade me, they sent me some information on what they were working on. Whether the person sending it made a genuine mistake or whether it was someone leaking the information deliberately I will never know but they sent me enough of their research to give me a head start. Then, a month or so ago, I received another package of information with a complete update on the new strain of the virus. The note with it was signed by the head of research. I knew him vaguely; you know what it’s like when you go to conferences, you see the same faces over and over. Anyway, that he knew where to find me meant I had to move on so I got Steve to help me move all my stuff over to the island. He was captaining the ferry between the island and the mainland so it was easy enough to get all my stuff on board without any questions being asked.”

“Does that mean you knew what they were planning?” 

“Of course I didn’t. I wouldn’t have kept quiet about something like that. I only knew what they were trying to do and had a good idea of which direction their work was taking.”

“Have you found a cure?” Sean demanded. He didn’t really believe that Viggo would have kept information that critical to himself.

“No I haven’t.”

Sean sighed. “I knew about the South East Asian connection. My contacts out there had told me some of it. I never learned the name of the man in charge though.”

“MacQuillan, Derek MacQuillan. He’s been the one trying to get me to join the project.”

“You think he’s survived and is likely to come after you now to get you to work on a cure?”

“He had the contacts to find me and men like that don’t take chances with their own safety. I bet he had a hideout all set up just in case it all went to hell.”

Something worrying occurred to Sean. “Vig, you asked Orli if he’d been exposed to the virus and we both have. We can’t go with you, we’ll kill them all.”

Viggo smiled. “It’s okay, Sean. It’s all fine.”

“But– ”

“It’s okay, you won’t harm the islanders. I may not have developed a cure but I did manage to make a vaccine. I can prevent people getting sick, not cure them.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone what you’d found, thousands might have been saved.” Sean was puzzled this wasn’t the behaviour of the Viggo he’d known. That man wouldn’t have sacrificed anyone for any reason if there was anything he could do to prevent it.

“I’ve only had the vaccine for a few days and by the time I was sure of what I’d found, everything had broken down and it was too late to get the information out there. I’ve managed to produce enough to immunise the islanders but that’s it. Steve’s a carrier, like you and Orlando so I’ve managed to test it and make sure it works.”

Sean was torn, he was pleased that there might be a way to save isolated pockets of people who had never been exposed but at the same time relieved for Orlando that he wouldn’t beat himself up for euthanizing his dad when there was a cure. 

“Does that mean that no one else will get the enhanced abilities that the three of us have?”

“Yes. You need to pick up the virus and then recover for that to happen so there are unlikely to be many more people who develop the same abilities that you all have. You’re all part of a very select group.”

The kettle began to whistle as the water reached boiling point and Viggo quickly turned off the gas and poured the water into the four mugs.

He looked at Sean. “Does Orlando take sugar in his?”

“No. He drinks it black with no sugar.”

Viggo grinned at him, his teeth appearing white in the semi dark. “So you know a bit about him already then?”

Sean couldn’t help but smile in return. “Yeah, the situation has meant we’ve learned a lot about each other in the last few days.”

“I could tell, there was something about the way you behaved around each other. I think you’re one lucky guy.”

Sean caught Viggo’s arm, “Listen, Vig, I know he’s good to look at and under other circumstances that might have influenced me but I’ve got to know the person underneath and he’s special.”

“I understand, Sean, and I’m happy for you.”

“So tell me about Steve. From the way you were talking you’ve known him for a while; he’s not just someone who sails the ferry backwards and forwards across The Minch.”

“No, he’s not. He was in the Navy, he’s never said much about his time there but I get the feeling he was involved with Special Forces.”

“Was he in the Marines?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Then he was probably SBS, they recruited mainly from there. You never know I might even have worked on an operation with him in the past. That being the case I’m wondering why you were so anxious to get me here. Steve will have had similar training to me.”

Viggo hesitated for a moment before answering. “It’s complicated. I’ve been visiting the island for a couple of years now, mainly because Steve’s a local.”

“So are you and Steve…?” Sean interrupted.

Viggo shook his head. “Not as a permanent thing. We get together occasionally but that’s as far as it is likely to go.”

“I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay, Sean, I’m fine with it. The main reason to have you here is that you’re my friend and now that you’ve come through the epidemic, I want you to have somewhere where you can have a chance at a normal life. This island is a sanctuary for all of us and the fact that you're here now in case MacQuillan does try anything is a bonus.”

It took Sean a moment to process all Viggo had told him but before he could comment, Viggo spoke again.

“And just in case it had crossed you mind that I dragged you here because I wanted to try to start anything between us again, that was the last thing on my mind.”

“You really think that MacQuillan is going to come after you, Vig?”

Viggo nodded. “Yeah I do. He won’t stop unless he’s dead.”

“Maybe it’s a good thing that we’re here then. Just in case he isn’t.” Sean said sombrely.

Viggo turned off the light and moved to the door. Even with his enhanced sight Sean couldn’t make out his expression when Viggo said, “Yeah I think so. I’m just hoping he doesn’t show up because if he does, he’s going to be really pissed.”


	8. Day 117: 6 September 2003

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The best bit about an argument is the making up after - right?

**Castlebay, Isle of Barra**

Sean stood on the top of Beinn Orasaigh, looking out over the channel between Barra and Vatersay. With his improved eyesight and the clear weather conditions he hoped to spot the yacht soon after it came past Coll which was an island in the Inner Hebrides, unlike Barra which was an island in the Outer Hebrides. The round trip to Fort William should take no more than three days if the wind was favourable and, according to the local fishermen he’d spoken to that morning, the wind had been ideal for both journeys.

After several minutes of fruitless staring, Sean turned to face the other way, looking over the island. He spotted the cottage he and Orlando shared, a twenty minute walk outside Castlebay, easily. It looked small and cosy. With its single floor, thick stone walls and a newly repaired thatched roof it fitted into the landscape perfectly.

It had been in a bad state of repair when they’d arrived with Viggo back in June but with no other houses empty on the island it had been there or move in with one of the island families. Maggie MacNeil, widow of the MacNeil and matriarch of the clan had offered to let them stay in her large manor house permanently but, wanting a place of their own to explore their growing relationship, they had only accepted her offer for the time they would need to repair the cottage. Sean had estimated it would take them at least a couple of months to make it habitable, but the islanders had soon begun to offer their help or pieces of furniture in payment for Orlando’s services as a doctor. In less than a month they had been able to move in. The only item of furniture they were still lacking was a proper bed. They were currently making do with a mattress on the floor and to rectify that, Sean had spoken to Rab Campbell, an islander with carpentry skills, and asked him to make them a bed. Rab had finished the work only yesterday and today, with Viggo’s help, Sean had assembled it. Apart from wanting Orlando home so that he knew he was safe, Sean was looking forward to Orlando’s reaction when he saw it.

Gazing at the cottage he couldn’t help but remember, with regret, the argument they’d had the night before Orlando left Barra as part of the small group of islanders going to Fort William.

 

_Sean sat at their small table and watched as Orlando packed spare ammunition clips into a pocket of his rucksack. When he had finished he looked up at Sean, a half hopeful smile on his lips but seeing Sean’s expression he lowered his eyes and concentrated on fastening the pack. Finally he broke the uncomfortable silence. “Come on, Sean, we need the medical supplies and I’ve worked in Belford Hospital and know the layout. I’m also the only one who can select the drugs we need.”_

_“Whoever goes can clear the shelves, bring everything back,” Sean protested._

_“How do they know they’ve got the things we need? They don’t keep all the drugs in the same place; the narcotics are normally kept securely. I can’t give them a list because the trade names vary too much for me to cover all the possibilities and I don’t know them all. We could end up with a sack full of laxatives and nothing to treat diabetes. It would be a complete waste of time and effort.”_

_Sean tried to sound reasonable even though he was feeling anything but. “I can understand your reasoning, Orli, but I still think it’s too dangerous. We don’t know what the situation is and as a doctor you are too valuable to the islanders to risk yourself.”_

_“Yes, I’m a doctor but if I don’t get more supplies I won’t be much more useful than anyone else. That’s not a valid argument, Sean and you know it.”_

_“And yours is? You have skills that no one else does, that‘s a good reason for you to stay and let someone else go. Besides, we don’t know what the situation in Fort William is going to be like. There could still be mobs of crazies running around and what about disease? There are bound to be bodies all over the place.” Sean knew he was only making excuses. The rational part of him knew that Orlando should go; the emotional part of him didn’t want him to._

_With a muttered curse, Orlando pulled out the other chair and sat facing Sean. When he reached across the table and grasped Sean’s hand the temptation to pull his hand away was huge but Sean couldn’t behave so childishly. Orlando was stubborn and he would go with Steve and the others tomorrow morning because it was his duty and in a lot of ways Sean understood that. What he couldn’t bring himself to explain was how he felt about Orlando taking risks and the consequences for himself if anything should befall Orlando._

_“I’m sorry that you don’t want me to go, Sean, but I’m the best person to do this. You helped plan the trip so you know we won’t just walk into danger. We’re going to go in at first light so, on the off chance there is anyone around, they will be half asleep. Any bodies in the street will have gone by now. The last three months have been warm so there are only going to be bones left if they haven’t been taken by foxes or dogs. We are taking water with us so we aren’t going to pick up any water borne illnesses and I’ll have Steve and three others with me in case we meet up with anyone else. You’ve taught me how to shoot and I’m taking the MP5 with plenty of ammunition, I’ll be fine.” Orlando took a breath and moved his gaze down to their joined hands. “I’ll be back, Sean, I will do everything possible to make sure I get back to you.”_

_His anger evaporated and Sean swallowed around the lump in his throat, hating himself for being so pathetic. “You mean that?” Christ! Was it possible to sound more needy?_

_“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t,” Orlando responded gently. He stood and tugged on Sean’s hand. “Come on, I’ve got an early start in the morning. Let’s get some sleep.”_

_Sure it would take sleep a long time to come, Sean allowed Orlando to pull him up and towards their small bedroom._

_After a restless night, Sean finally accepted that he needed to let Orlando go. In the three months that they’d been together Sean had become accustomed to Orlando’s constant presence in his life. It had taken time but Sean was slowly learning to open up with Orlando. Despite their minor disagreement the night before, Sean knew how strong Orlando was. He’d been there when Orlando had made the decision to euthanize his father and that had taken a huge amount of courage. He wanted to protect him but Orlando was an adult and since meeting Sean he had learned a lot about keeping himself safe. Sean had to trust that he had taught Orlando enough._

_So, at first light the next morning, he shook Orlando awake. “Come on, love, time to be moving. The tide won’t wait for you.”_

_Orlando yawned hugely before sitting up and letting the sheet fall until it was pooled around his waist. As usual, Sean felt the familiar surge of want go through him at the sight of the tanned torso even though they’d made love only hours before. He would never cease to be amazed that this incredible man had chosen him as his lover and his friend._

_Somehow Sean managed to resist getting back into bed and instead headed out to start the kettle boiling over the peat stove they used for cooking. Sean was slowly getting used to using peat for cooking and had perfected the technique of keeping the fire banked overnight so that it was ready to use in the morning._

_Their goodbye on the quayside had been muted, conscious of the group around them and also that despite how welcoming the islanders had been, Barra was a predominantly Catholic island and while many would turn a blind eye to two men sharing a house, that might not continue if they were too overt about their relationship._

 

With only an hour or less left until the sun set, Sean turned to make his way down the hill. Telling himself that it was too early to panic but with a sinking feeling in his chest, he decided to go and find Viggo. He needed to talk to someone and with Steve gone too, Viggo was bound to supply a sympathetic ear.

He dawdled on his way down from the hill top, hoping against hope that he would glance out to sea and spot the yacht in the distance. As a consequence it was almost full dark when he turned to have one final look and in the distance spotted the dim glow reflected from a white sail quite close in. Positive that the dark shape below the sail was Viggo’s yacht, Sean hurried his steps wanting to share the good news with Viggo. He arrived at Viggo’s door; it wasn’t locked, as was the case throughout the island, so he let himself in shouting, “Hey, Vig, it’s me. I’ve just spotted a sail so I’m sure they’re on their way back.”

“I’m in the kitchen, come on through.”

Walking through the familiar clutter of Viggo’s living area, Sean came into the kitchen. A wonderful smell greeted him and he grinned when he saw Viggo stirring a large pot of what looked like soup.   
“That smells good.”

“Yeah, I thought Steve would need something hot when he got back…” 

Sean tried manfully but couldn’t suppress a smirk. 

“Get your mind out of the gutter, you bastard.” 

“Come on, Vig, if you keep saying things like that I’m bound to think filthy thoughts.”

“Well knowing Orli I can understand why.” Viggo turned his attention back to the soup for a moment, using a spoon to taste it before adjusting the seasoning.

Sean’s smile grew broader. “What can I say?”

Viggo picked up a wooden spoon and shook it at Sean. “I don’t want details, knowing what you two get up to would probably give me a heart attack. Anyway, there’s enough soup for all of us if you want to stay.”

Sean was torn; he’d missed Orlando for the past two nights and now that they had a proper bed he was really hoping for the opportunity to make good use of it. On the other hand, Orlando would have barely slept during the trip so it might be more sensible to have some supper with Viggo and Steve before taking Orlando home.

~~~~

Sean shuffled around nervously on the quayside. The bonfires he’d lit half an hour ago to aid Steve in bringing the yacht in were still burning fiercely, painting the white exterior of the yacht orange. They were still a hundred yards offshore and he couldn’t see Orlando on deck. Several of the other men who had taken part in the trip were there but there was no sign of Orlando. Just as Sean was on the verge of diving into the dark, cold water to make sure he was okay, a slight breeze blew up and Steve at once turned into the wind and began bringing the yacht closer.

“Thank fuck for that,” Viggo muttered.

“What?” Sean answered him absent-mindedly, his whole concentration on the deck of the yacht.

“I’m grateful that the wind changed. I could see you getting ready to dive in and try to tow the yacht into shore.”

“He’s not on deck,” Sean blurted out.

“So? It’s cold and dark and they don’t need his help to crew so why shouldn’t he wait below decks. That way he won’t get in their way.”

Knowing Vig was probably right, Sean stopped himself from commenting further. 

It still seemed like hours but realistically Sean knew it was only a matter of minutes until Steve brought the yacht alongside the quay. The crew worked efficiently to tie her up and haul the gangplank into place. Despite his best efforts to remain calm Sean grew more and more concerned when Orlando didn’t appear. There was still no sign of him, even when the men began to off load the boxes of supplies they’d scavenged.

Seeing Steve Sean called over to him. “Orlando? Where is he?”

Steve looked over from where he was checking the mooring was secure.

“He’s below. There was an accident-“

Sean didn’t wait to hear any more. Moving swiftly, he hurried on board.

He heard Steve shout, “Sean, wait-” as he pulled open the cabin door and ducked inside.

Orlando was sitting on one of the bunks in the cabin and Jamie, one of the Galbraith boys Sean remembered, was lying asleep in the other. 

“Orli? Are you okay?” Sean blurted out.

Orlando walked over and pulled him into a quick hug. “Hey. Yeah, I’m fine.”

His worry for Orlando over, Sean was now concerned for the other crew member. “What’s wrong with Jamie? Is it serious?”

Orlando shook his head. “No, he’ll be fine. He tripped over on deck on the way back and gave himself a mild concussion. I wasn’t needed on deck so I decided to stay here and keep an eye on him. Steve said he’d get Maggie to let him stay with her for tonight and get someone to drop him home tomorrow morning.”

“Good. Did you get what you went for?”

“Mostly. There wasn’t much morphine but I found some codeine and a few other oral painkillers which aren’t as strong, but I managed to find a good supply of a variety of antibiotics and –“

In the end Sean couldn’t wait for Orlando to stop talking and instead pulled him back into his arms, kissing him thoroughly.

Slightly breathless, Orlando announced, “I think I’ll have to go away more often if I get welcomed back like that. What was that in aid of?”

“I missed you, that’s all.”

Orlando leaned forward again and brushed his lips over Sean’s. “Good. I missed you too.”

They moved apart as Jamie began to stir which was fortunate as Steve chose then to stick his head into the cabin. “Davie’s here with the cart to take Jamie up to The Great House.”

At once Orlando snapped back into doctor mode. “Good. If Sean will give me a hand to get him settled there, I’ll go back and check on him in the morning. I’m sure he’ll be fine though.”

Between them it didn’t take long to manoeuvre Jamie along the narrow gangplank and up and into the cart Davie MacNeil had brought along. Jumping up in the back alongside Jamie, Sean and Orlando sat there while Davie clicked his tongue to encourage the horse to get moving.

It was more than an hour later before they were able to escape from Maggie MacNeil’s home. She had insisted on feeding them soup and homemade scones and it was only by protesting truthfully about overwhelming tiredness that they had been able to get away.

The moon was three quarters full and gave enough light for them to see the path that led to their cottage. They walked quickly and mostly in silence and it felt perfectly natural when Orlando slipped his hand into Sean’s.

“What was it like in Fort William?”

“We didn’t see anyone and no bodies. There were a lot of dogs roaming the streets and I think they might become a bit of a problem as they are turning feral. I wouldn’t be surprised if in a few years they are running in packs and aren’t worried about attacking people.”

“Oh, that doesn’t sound good. It’s something to think about if we ever get around to persuading the islanders to move somewhere else so that the community stays viable.”

Orlando stopped dead and it was only their clasped hands which stopped Sean continuing on without him. When he pulled up to he turned to Orlando in concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just forgot to tell you some good news. On the way back, the wind turned for a couple of hours so we took the opportunity to sail close to somewhere called Maiden Island. It protects the route into the ferry port at Oban and it looked like there were a couple of ferries moored there. Steve is thinking about making another trip over to check them out but he’s pretty confident that they would still run as long as there was fuel in the tanks. That means we would have a way of moving everyone and their livestock when the time comes.”

“That’s great. I think it’s going to take some time to persuade everyone of the necessity of moving because I’m not really sure that Vig is behind the idea completely.”

“I can sort of understand his thinking, he’s been responsible for the people here and an island is much easier to defend. Change of any sort can be seen as threatening.”

They had just reached their front door so Sean said, “Yeah I know. Anyway, we can talk about that tomorrow. Now, I have a surprise for you.”

Orlando turned to him a huge smile on his face. “You do? A surprise?”

Sean nodded. “Yeah, it’s partly to say sorry for being an arse before you left. So close your eyes and I’ll guide you inside.”

Orlando suddenly moved closer and hugged him. “Don’t apologise, love, I understand, really I do. But I’m back and we’re both fine so let’s concentrate on the important things.” 

Sean’s body reacted predictably because he knew what was likely to be important to Orlando in this situation. Fortunately, Sean was on exactly the same page. “Okay.”

“Good. Now where’s my surprise?”

“Right, close your eyes and no peeking. Oh and remember to duck under the door frame. Giving yourself a concussion would really ruin the rest of the evening.” Sean waited until Orlando had followed his instructions and then pushed open their front door. Walking behind his lover, he rested his hands on Orlando’s shoulders and steered him inside. Once inside he said, “Right now stand still for just a moment while I close the door.”

Replacing his hands on Orlando’s shoulders, Sean guided him towards the small doorway that led to their bedroom. They stopped facing the footboard of the bed. Sean had left the curtains open earlier so he hoped Orlando would be able to appreciate the beauty of the wood Rab had used in the moonlight that streamed through the bedroom window.

Orlando obviously knew where he was because he said, “Jesus, Sean, if you wanted to fuck, you should just have said so. You know I’d never turn you down.”

Moving up close behind him so that their bodies were touching from groin to chest, Sean lowered his voice and growled, “I know but I want you to see the surprise first.”

Shuddering, Orlando asked, “Can I open my eyes then?”

Wanting to see his lover’s face when he saw the bed for the first time, Sean moved slightly to one side before answering. “Yeah, go ahead.”

Orlando’s eyes flickered open and Sean saw the exact moment when he recognised what was in front of him. Running his hand over the polished wood in awe, he looked over at Sean. “It’s beautiful. But this wasn’t made in the last three days.”

“No, I asked Rab to make it a couple of months ago and he’s been working on it in his spare time because I had no real way of paying him.” 

“It’s fabulous. And he was okay with making it for us?”

“I think it was one of those don’t ask, don’t tell moments. That way he could pretend we weren’t going to sleep together.”

Orlando held out his hand and Sean went willingly into his embrace. As Orlando drew him closer for a kiss, Sean felt a deep sense of peace come over him. This was where he belonged and where he wanted to stay. With this man, he felt complete for the first time.

Recognising that the moment was becoming a little too solemn, Orlando waggled his eyebrows and asked, “So you want to christen the new bed then?”

“Too right I do,” Sean responded in kind, moving them around to the side of the bed intending to push Orlando down onto it. But Orlando had paid attention to Sean’s self-defence lessons and instead Sean found himself dragged down and flipped over so that he was on his back. Then Orlando’s body covered his.

The three days they had been apart seemed like a lifetime to Sean and so it was with desperation that he began to pull at their clothing. That turned into a half serious wrestling match which ended with them both naked and their clothes scattered all over the floor.

When Orlando rolled over and straddled him, Sean took the opportunity to lift his hips so that their cocks brushed against each other. The sensation was as incredible as always, so Sean did it again, forcing a groan of pleasure from his lover.

Sean was already reaching over to the small chest that stood beside the bed when he heard Orlando say, “I want to be inside you tonight, Sean. Will you let me?”

Surprised by the request, Sean’s arm fell back onto the bed as he tried desperately to frame an answer but nothing came out. 

Orlando instantly drew back. “I’m sorry, Sean, it was just an idea. I know I usually bottom and we’ve never really discussed switching so it’s okay if you don’t want to.”

Moving his hands until they framed Orlando’s face, Sean pulled him closer until he was nearly cross-eyed, trying to keep his eyes focused. “Orli, it’s okay. It was a bit of a shock because I didn’t know that was something you were interested in doing.” Sean found he had to lick his dry lips before he could continue. “It’s just that…”

“You’ve never bottomed before, have you?” Orlando asked, his gaze intense.

Sean shook his head. The thought made him a little nervous but Sean also found the idea of letting Orlando come inside him very arousing.

“Don’t worry. It’s not a problem. I can-“

Sean cut him off with the simple expedient of putting his hand over Orlando’s mouth. “If you’ll let me finish; I’ve never bottomed before because I’ve never felt comfortable about it. It was the unwritten rule in the army, if you fancy other men be the one doing the fucking rather than the one being fucked. That way maybe you’re not as gay. It sounds stupid when you say it like that, of course.”

“It’s okay, I understand.”

Sean shook his head. “No, you don’t. I want to do this with you.” Hoping to lighten the mood and keep his apprehension under control he added, “As long as you’ve topped before of course. The blind leading the blind would probably turn into a disaster.”

“Yes, I’ve topped before.” The smile that crossed Orlando’s face filled Sean with warmth and made him glad he had decided to take this step, so before nerves made him doubt himself, he reached over again to get the lubricant they usually used. It wasn’t ideal but it was all they had been able to find on Barra, the small supply that Orlando had brought with them having been used up quickly.

“No wait,” Orlando said suddenly. 

Before Sean could move, he had leapt up off the bed and out into the living room, leaving Sean feeling a bit puzzled and a little hurt by his abrupt departure. Sean heard him opening a bag in the other room and sorting through the contents and then Orlando was back, holding a tube in one hand. Throwing himself back onto the bed beside Sean he grinned at him. “I almost forgot I found this.”

Sean finally managed to focus on the tube. “KY jelly? Where did you get that?”

“It was in the hospital storeroom, I thought it would come in handy.”

Sean nodded. “I’m sure it will.”

“I found twenty tubes.” Orlando’s smile grew even wider and he lifted his eyebrows in a suggestive manner.

“That should keep us going for a while.” Sean found the familiar banter between them had replaced his nerves and now he was eager to experience another side of their relationship.

Taking the tube from Orlando, Sean opened it and taking Orlando’s hand squeezed some out into it.

“You’re sure about this?” At Sean’s emphatic nod Orlando said, “Okay, but tell me if it gets too much and you want me to stop. We don’t have to go the whole way at once.”

Managing to keep Orlando’s sticky hand at bay, Sean dragged him down for a passionate kiss. When they finally parted he said, “Don’t worry. I’ve been with you enough times now to know how good it is for you. I trust you and I’m not going to break.”

“I know all that but I want this to be more than good. That way you’ll let me do it again.”

Sean lifted his legs, bending his knees and resting his feet on the bed as Orlando settled himself comfortably at his side. Sean closed his eyes and concentrated on feeling as Orlando began to stroke lightly over his entrance. As Sean grew accustomed to the sensation and relaxed even more, the touches became slightly more focused and soon Orlando slipped his finger inside. 

The sensation was far from unpleasant and without opening his eyes Sean said, “More. I’m fine. It feels good.”

Orlando shifted beside him, his finger probing further now. It still wasn’t an uncomfortable feeling, just odd. “I’m going to use two fingers now.”

“Fine.” Sean felt blissfully relaxed and was enjoying Orlando’s undivided attention.

The pressure increased and he felt full, it also stung a little until Orlando touched something inside him that had him lifting his hips off the bed. “Jesus, Orli, that was amazing!”

Orlando’s voice came from lower down the bed. “Now you know why I like you fucking me so much.”

Orlando stroked that spot again at the same time Sean felt his breath on his stomach as he exhaled. Before he could work out what was going on, his cock was surrounded by wet warmth and Orlando’s talented tongue was making him squirm.

Sean knew his voice sounded breathless when he said, “If you keep doing that I’m going to come.”

Letting go of his cock, Orlando replied, “It’s not a problem. You can come more than once and at least that way I know you’ll be good and relaxed.”

His cock was enveloped again and Sean couldn’t stifle a moan. The pressure on his arse increased and Sean guessed Orlando must now have three fingers inside him. The constant pressure on his prostate and Orlando sucking on his cock was enough to send him over the edge and before he could utter any kind of warning, Sean’s essence was pumping down Orlando’s throat.

Lying limp and sated, Sean felt Orlando move again until he was lying between Sean’s legs. “It would be easier if you were on all fours but I think you’re a bit too spaced out at the moment. Besides I like the idea of being able to see your face while I have my cock inside you.”

Despite having just come, Orlando’s words made Sean’s cock start to harden again. Opening his eyes, he watched as Orlando slicked up his cock and placed it at his entrance. Sean recognised the look of concentration on his face and appreciated the care he was taking. There was no pain as they were finally joined so that when Orlando stopped part way, Sean simply grabbed onto his arse cheeks and pulled him deeper until their bodies were as close together as possible.

Orlando’s panicked yelp, turned into a moan of pleasure. 

“See told you I wouldn’t break,” Sean offered smugly.

“How does it feel?”

Sean reached up and pulled Orlando’s head down for a kiss, just before their lips met he whispered, “It feels brilliant and I know it will get even better if you start moving.”

Supporting himself on his elbows and knees, Orlando began to thrust into Sean. His strokes were long and deep but with no real force behind them. “Harder, Orli,” Sean demanded.

Burying his face against Sean’s neck and holding onto his shoulders tightly Orlando began to pound into him in earnest, his muttered curses and gasping breaths sounding harsh against Sean’s ear. Sean’s cock was sandwiched between their bodies, sliding easily in the pre-come that had oozed from him. The friction on it built as Orlando quickened his pace.

Clasping his legs around Orlando’s waist changed the angle so that Orlando was hitting Sean’s sweet spot head on every time. With a yell, Orlando came, Sean felt the hot liquid inside him and seeping out of his hole as Orlando continued moving through his orgasm. Overcome with sensation, Sean climaxed too, wrapping his arms around Orlando’s shoulders and holding on tightly.

When Sean finally recovered enough to let go, his arms and legs ached as though he’d just run a marathon. Orlando was a limp weight on his chest until he gathered his wits enough to roll to one side. Leaning over the edge of the bed, he found an old piece of towel to clean them both up. Once that was done, Sean pulled Orlando into his arms and he let his head rest on Sean‘s shoulder

“That was amazing. Thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

Despite feeling completely satisfied, Sean couldn’t settle. The sensation that he still had something he needed to do eating at him.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” Orlando’s voice was soft but Sean could hear the worry permeating every word.

“No. I’m fine. I’m just feeling a bit…”

Orlando cracked one eye open, propped himself on one elbow and studied him. Finally he said, “You can say it you know.” 

Those few words crystallised what he was feeling so, with his heart in his mouth Sean uttered the words he’d never told anyone else. “I love you.”

“Good. Because I love you too.”

“Really?”

“Of course, really, you silly sod. Now come here.” 

Orlando rolled onto his back and Sean let himself be pulled over and into his arms. Enjoying the closeness and shared warmth Sean closed his eyes and worries now vanquished, effortlessly slipped into sleep.


	9. Day 172: 31 October 2003

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Living in fear is a problem and an expected arrival could mean danger for the community.

Sean stood abruptly and walked away from the table in Viggo’s kitchen. He knew they would be concerned about his abrupt departure but he needed some fresh air and time to think. 

Somehow, he and Orlando had been co-opted onto the council which had been running the island over the past few months, and it was something that Sean had struggled to come to terms with. He’d always had socialist leanings and the idea of having an elite group who decided how the island was governed was disquieting. But it had been the system whereby the island had been ruled for many years and as the widow of The MacNeil, Maggie had assumed the role of clan chief until her grandson Davie came of age.

The discussion had been going around and around for most of the morning without any progress. In the scale of things that wasn’t a surprise, Sean had mooted the idea of re-locating the islanders way back at the end of August, before the supply trip to Fort William. Now, though he had agreement in principle from Viggo, Steve and Maggie to the move, they still hadn’t reached a consensus on a likely destination or even the sort of place they should be looking for.

Sean understood it was a huge step to consider re-locating the entire population of the island. But their community needed to be able to do more than scratch a subsistence living. As the doctor for the community, Orlando had more than once voiced his concern that they would not be able to ensure balanced diets for everyone. He was convinced that in less than a generation, malnutrition would be rife. 

In the past the islanders had managed to be almost self-sufficient but they had grown a wider range of crops – for which the seeds were no longer available on Barra – and they had also traded extensively with other islands in the Outer Hebrides and on the mainland.

During their discussion Orlando had also raised the thorny question of inbreeding. The gene pool available on the island was limited and while Sean, Orlando and Viggo, as outsiders, were willing to father children by artificial or other means, it wasn’t going to solve the underlying issue. Previously, people had married outside the island families, either moving to the mainland or bringing their newly wedded spouse to Barra.

The people of Barra had taken Sean and Orlando in and made them welcome; Sean wanted to repay their kindness and also ensure that their children had a future. It wasn’t as though he was suggesting they moved everyone now or even next month. Sean was looking at a year or more to carry out the exodus. Finding their new home would take many months and would need careful investigation. There were bound to be survivors elsewhere and they needed to find out which groups, if any, would welcome some new arrivals. The alternative was finding a place with no resident population where they could settle.

At least the means of transporting everyone, their possessions and livestock had been solved. Steve and Sean had made a trip back to Oban only two weeks ago and had spent some time looking over the ferries there. There were two which were fully operational and almost full of fuel and Sean was confident they would be the perfect transport for the islanders to wherever they ended up going.

Feeling more than despondent at how difficult it was to get Viggo or Maggie to think outside the box, Sean walked over the sand dunes and onto the beach close to the house. Ramming his hands down into his pockets, to protect them from the cold wind which was blowing in over the Atlantic, Sean watched as the waves rolled up the beach. He’d tried to be patient and understand their fears but he wasn’t sure how much longer he could do that. More than four months with no sign of MacQuillan or any of his people was leading Sean to believe that maybe the man hadn’t survived the ravages of the plague. Personally, for the devastation he’d caused, Sean hoped he was rotting in Hell.

He’d been there for maybe twenty minutes when he heard someone coming down the path that led to the beach. Turning he saw it was Orlando and so waited for him to join him. 

“Are you okay?” Orlando asked anxiously.

Sean shrugged, “I think so. It just gets so frustrating when they can’t see what’s in front of their faces.”

“Give them a chance. You’ve been trained to appraise a situation, make a decision on the best thing to do and then cope with the fallout if there’s any. Neither of them has had to do that. Steve doesn’t have a problem looking at your suggestions because his background is similar to yours.”

Sean let his hand rest on Orlando’s shoulder. “What about you? You’re fine with the plan so how does that work?”

“Maybe it’s because I had to make snap decisions over how to treat people in A and E. In a lot of cases you have to make the right choice first time because there isn’t the opportunity to have another go at the problem when someone’s life is on the line.”

Seeing him shiver, Sean used his grip on Orlando’s shoulder to pull him into his arms. Orlando came happily, winding his hands around Sean’s waist and hiding his face against Sean’s neck.

Sean couldn’t help but laugh at the ticklish sensation of Orlando’s breathing close to his ear. “God, your nose is cold.”

“Sorry,” Orlando mumbled.

“No, you’re not.” 

“You’re right, I’m not.”

They stood like that for some time until Sean felt Orlando tense against him. He instantly went on alert. “What’s wrong, Orli?”

Orlando pointed out to sea. “Out there, I saw something.”

Sean immediately scanned the waves, trying to see what Orlando had. “What did it look like? Was it a boat?” 

“No, it wasn’t big enough for a boat. I can’t be sure but it might have been a person swimming or more likely a body because there was no sign of splashing.”

“Can you go and get the others while I keep watch?”

Orlando didn’t bother to reply, just took off running along the sand. In moments he had disappeared over the top of the sand dune. Turning back to face the water, Sean started scanning the waves, hoping he could see what Orlando had spotted.

In a very short time, he heard the swish, swish noise of someone running in loose sand. Turning Sean saw Steve stop near the top of the dune and, using a pair of binoculars, he began to scan the waves. Almost immediately, he pointed over to Sean’s right.

“Over there, maybe twenty yards out and low down in the water. It’s a body,” he shouted over to Sean. 

After a bit of gesticulating between them, Steve handed the binoculars to Orlando and came down to Sean.

“I take it he didn’t want to wait up there?”

“No. He was muttering something about being the only bloody doctor around and being kept away from a potential casualty.”

Sean took another look out to sea. “If the person in the water is not standing up and walking this close to shore, I reckon we’ve got a body and there is no need for his skills.”

“Aye.” 

“So, how do you want to play this?” 

“There’s nothing for it, we’re going to have to go in and drag him out.” Steve started stripping off his jacket and jumper. After a moment’s thought he peeled off his jeans too.

Seeing the sense in keeping the majority of his clothes dry, Sean followed suit. “Orli? Can you make sure we’re going in the right direction? The waves are too high for us to see from here,” Sean shouted over to Orlando.

“Okay. Be careful, both of you.”

Sean took one last glance over his shoulder and saw Viggo and Maggie arriving with what looked like armfuls of blankets and towels before he followed Steve, plunging knee deep into the water.

He managed to keep going even though the cold immediately seeped into his bones and took his breath away. Knowing they had to get the job done as quickly as possible, he kept close to Steve. They were chest deep when they reached the body and started towing the man – even under these circumstances Sean could tell the figure was too tall and stocky for a woman – towards the shore.

The others hurried over as he and Steve dragged the body up the beach, until it was well clear of the surf. The wind bit into his exposed skin and he was thankful that Maggie threw a large blanket around his shoulders as soon as she reached him. 

Orlando knelt beside the body, heaving it over with practiced skill. 

Ignoring everything else for a moment, Sean used the blanket to absorb the worst of the water, before dragging on his clothes. He wasn’t going to be any use at all if he froze to death. Once he was dressed he joined Viggo and Orlando who were muttering over the body.

The man had broad shoulders and looked to be in his sixties, if Sean was any judge, with white hair and an unkempt beard. His skin was almost grey in colour and his rough clothes had obviously seen better days as they were threadbare and stained in places.

“He’s not been in the water long. Maybe only a couple of hours,” Orlando said.

“Yeah, no sign of decay at all. The water isn’t cold enough to stop that so no more than a few hours probably,” Viggo agreed.

“I wonder where he came from?” Sean muttered not expecting an answer.

“He’s a fisherman,” Steve said.

“How do you know that?” Sean queried.

“Look at his hands. The knuckles are swollen with arthritis and he has scars on most of his fingers. He’s been working in cold water and with a knife, gutting fish for most of his life; it makes sense to assume he’s a fisherman.”

“But where from?” Orlando joined in the conversation from his place beside the body.

Maggie came closer and looked at the man. “Och I don’t recognise the poor soul so it’s not likely he’s a local. He could be from one of the other islands; they’re not too far away.”

“I think that’s most likely. He’s not been in the water long enough to have come from the mainland.” That was Steve’s suggestion.

Suddenly Sean noticed something. “If he was out fishing wouldn’t he have been wearing oilskins?”

Steve nodded. “I would have thought so.”

“Would the lack of protective clothing mean he’s a crazy?” Orlando asked that question.

“We can’t tell just by looking,” Viggo added.

Sean nodded in agreement before saying. “It doesn’t really matter but I think we need to find out if there are any surviving groups of crazies on nearby islands. I can’t believe we haven’t thought about the possibility before because they could be a danger to the people here if they somehow managed to work out how to get across the water.”

Orlando had stood up and was now looking down the beach. “I think we might be able to solve the riddle. There looks to be an upside down boat washed ashore over there.”

“I’ll go and take a look at it,” Steve offered.

“What do we do about the body?” Orlando asked.

Maggie answered, “The poor man deserves a decent burial. I’ll get some of the men to take him to Our Lady.”

Sean knew she was referring to the Church of Our Lady, Star of the Sea, which overlooked Castlebay

She continued with, “Father McKinnon will do what’s needed for him. Sean, Viggo and Orlando, I’ll see you later.”

The three of them waited in silence until Steve re-joined them.

“Did you find anything?”

“Lochboisdale was painted on the stern so I think it’s safe to assume he came from there.”

“Where’s that?” Sean asked; his knowledge of Hebredian geography still a little sketchy.

“It’s the main town on South Uist, the next island if you head north,” Steve answered.

Orlando had crouched down again beside the body and was loosening the man’s clothing to look at his skin. “I think he was running away from something.”

“What makes you think that?” Viggo wanted to know.

“Because he’s got scratches on both arms, as though he was using them to protect himself. Also he’s got what look like bite marks on his shoulder and it looks like his clothes have been torn rather than worn, as though someone grabbed him and he got away.”

“Are you saying there are crazies on Uist and he tried to use the boat to get away? The bites could be animal or from whales or dolphins while he was in the water. We get those around here most of the year.” Steve protested.

“I’m just telling you what I can see. They’re human bites not animal; the tooth pattern is distinctive. We haven’t got the facilities to do a proper post-mortem and I’m not a sodding pathologist anyway,” Orlando snapped before turning to Viggo. “We could do some blood tests to see if he’s a survivor or a crazy couldn’t we?”

“Yeah, we can do that but I’m not sure how it might help,” Viggo said.

“If he’s a survivor that means there’s a chance there are others like us nearby. If he’s crazy, it means we have to set watches to make sure a boatload doesn’t land here. All the houses on the island are remote so we wouldn’t necessarily know if anyone was attacked for some time. A big group could do a lot of damage before we could deal with them,” Steve answered.

Viggo nodded in agreement. “Okay, I’ll get some samples before they take him off to the church.”

“Yeah, and I’ll have a closer look at those scratches and bites, just to be sure,” Orlando offered.

Just then it started to rain. It was a light drizzle but the kind that soaked in everywhere. When Sean saw Orlando shiver, he said, “Why don’t you go up to the house? Steve and I will bring him up when the cart arrives.”

“Well, he’s not going anywhere so I think that’s a good idea.” Orlando turned and began to walk over the sand towards the path.

When Viggo followed him, Sean waited for Steve so that they could walk together. “If he’s a survivor, someone’s going to have to go over to Lochboisdale and check if there are crazies there. It’s too close to home.”

Steve nodded as he fell into step with Sean. “Aye, I was thinking the very same thing myself.”

“When?”

“The sooner the better. We should wait for the blood test results and then work out a plan.”


	10. Day 175: 3 November 2003

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trip to Uist leads to new members of the community on Barra

Three days later, they were anchored a couple of hundred yards off South Uist in a small bay close to Lochboisdale. The blood tests on the body had shown that the man had been a survivor rather than a crazy. After examining the body further, Orlando had also confided to Sean that he was positive that the bite marks were human and inflicted in a way meant to cause damage, which pointed to there being surviving crazies on South Uist. 

The plan was for Sean and Steve to go ashore using the dingy while Orlando remained on board to guard the yacht. It had been against his better judgement but Sean had finally agreed to Orlando’s presence, realising he needed to be less over-protective and that having a doctor along was a good idea. He had tried to make Orlando promise not to move off the yacht no matter what, but Sean was unsure whether he had succeeded because Orlando’s response had been to start taking off his clothes and Sean had completely forgotten any conditions in lieu of a spectacular blow job. 

They were going in at dusk, a time when their improved eyesight would give them an advantage. As they drew closer to shore, Sean studied the landscape carefully. He couldn’t see anyone waiting for them but that didn’t mean there wasn’t anyone there.

Lochboisdale was much smaller than Castlebay with a population of less than a thousand before the plague. Without the vaccine that Viggo had created the population would have shrunk to no more than a hundred and going on the percentages C had mentioned all those months ago, it was likely that their body was the only real survivor on the island. Sean and Steve had discussed the likelihood of there being anyone else sane on the island and had vowed to make sure, if that was the case, that they would find them and bring them back to safety.

Waving to Orlando, Sean and Steve rowed quietly over to the shore. There were no lights visible from the town and only a sliver of moon to light their way but to Sean it was almost as bright as daylight. They beached the dingy, close to some rocks and, after checking their weapons, hitched the rifles over their shoulders and headed in the direction of the town around half a mile away.

As they drew closer to the collection of houses that made up the town, Sean thought he could hear the sound of shouting but wasn’t sure because the wind was behind them. 

“Did you hear that?” Sean whispered.

“Aye, it sounded like it came from beyond the town.”

Sean nodded. “Best we head there then.”

Jogging quickly but at the same time as silently as possible, they headed down the rough track towards the main road which ran the length of the island. Once they reached the end of the track they could see several houses which faced onto the road away on their right.

“What do you think? Should we go through here as fast as possible or take our time and try to stay hidden?”

Before Steve could answer, Sean once more heard the sound of voices once again and this time they were louder.

“I think we need to go and see what’s going on over there.” Steve gestured to his left.

They ran along the road and once more Sean was grateful for the enhancements that allowed them to run fast without getting tired.

They’d covered maybe half a mile when in the distance, in a dip in the road, they saw a burning building. As they drew closer, Sean saw a group of maybe ten or twelve men gathered around the house. Some of them were carrying flaming torches and waving them around erratically. There was no doubt in Sean’s mind that they were all crazy. Ducking down behind a convenient hedge he and Steve studied the scene for a few moments.

“What are they waiting for?” Steve asked in a whisper, not that it was necessary, with the popping and cracking sounds produced as the house was slowly consumed by the fire.

Sean pointed at the house, I think they’ve got someone trapped inside and are trying to burn them out.”

“Another crazy?”

“It’s unlikely. Look at the windows and doors, the house has been fortified. A crazy wouldn’t have done that.”

“A survivor then?”

Sean nodded. “Yeah, I think so.”

“So how shall we do this? As soon as we fire they’ll come after us. Orlando has the MP5 so we can’t just mow them down. We’re going to have to take them out singly with the rifles.”

Sean thought for a moment. “Shoot and move I think is going to work best. We can see better than them and move faster. If we start at about ninety degrees apart, using the house as the centre, I’ll shoot and they will come towards me. They should then be spread out enough for you to get a few of them while I’m moving. Then we’ll reverse the procedure.”

Steve nodded, “Aye, give me thirty seconds to get in position and I’ll take the first shot so you know I’m ready.”

Sean’s plan went like clockwork and in less than ten minutes they had managed to take down all the crazies permanently. Jogging up to the house and leaving Steve on watch, Sean shouted, trying to make himself heard above the flames which were now spreading quickly. “Is there anyone there? Come out so we can help you.”

“Who’re you? You’re not from the islands.” The voice was female with a Scottish accent but Sean had had enough practice now to discern that it was different to Steve’s.

“We’re from another island. We came to help you.”

“Thank, God. I can’t get out. The door‘s blocked.” 

“Can you get upstairs and come out of a window?” Sean shouted.

“No, the stairs are alight, it’s too dangerous.”

Sean heard the woman coughing and realised her situation was deteriorating.

“What’s blocking the door?”

“There’s some furniture in front of it, too much for me to move.”

“That means I’m not going to get in that way either.”

Sean ran around to the back of the house and saw that the back door was secured with strips of timber which had been boarded across it. Rushing back to the front of the house he shouted, “I’m going to try to open the back door. Can you get there?”

“I’ll try, but it’s no use. I can’t find the key.”

Going back to the back door, Sean began to tug at the boards. They’d only been nailed into place so his superior strength meant that most of them pulled free relatively easily. He kicked at the few which didn’t and soon he had the door clear. Raising his voice again he shouted, “Stand back, I’m going to try to push the door open.”

When there was no response, Sean began to worry that the woman had been overcome by smoke so without stopping to consider the danger, he threw himself shoulder first at the back door, rattling it on its hinges before he bounced off. It had given a little though so he tried again, this time splitting the wood of the door so that the lock remained in place while the rest of the door swung open. 

Looking around for Steve, Sean waved him over when he spotted him. “I’m going inside, if I’m not out in a couple of minutes come and get me.”

“Aye. I’ll bide here. Make it fast though, the front of the house is well alight now.”

Leaving his rifle with Steve, Sean covered his mouth and nose with his arm and charged into the house. The flames had spread and were even now licking at the ceiling of the kitchen he came into. Fortunately, the woman had made it this far before being overcome by the thick smoke. Sean didn’t see her so much as fall over her prone figure. She was lying oddly, curled up into an almost foetal position and it was only when he bent down to pick her up that he realised she was clutching a tiny new born baby to her chest.

Conscious of the way the heat in the room was beginning to singe his hair; he quickly picked her and the baby up, his strength making nothing of their combined weight.

He got outside as quickly as he could and Steve immediately loped over. “How is she?”

Sean put down his precious burden and quickly bent down to check them over. “She’s still breathing but she’s been in the smoke for a while I think.” He picked up the baby carefully, unwrapping the blanket covering it and placed a finger on its chest searching for a heartbeat. “Fuck me, I think the baby’s okay too. It’s a tough little blighter. We should get them back so that Orlando can check them over properly.”

“Right. Shall I start carrying her and you take the baby? We can change half way if we need to.”

Sean nodded. Re-wrapping the baby carefully in the blanket, he undid his jacket and carefully stowed the baby there so that he had his hands free in case there were still any crazies about. 

Fortunately the baby remained quiet and they saw no one on their journey back and were on the beach where they had left the dingy in less than twenty minutes, without needing to swap their burdens. Steve put the woman down and was just pulling the dingy down to the water when she began to wake up.

Sitting bolt upright, she looked around in a panic. “Alexander? Oh my God, where is he? Alexander!” She immediately doubled over and started coughing.

Waiting a moment for her to recover, Sean went onto his knees next to her and showed her the sleeping baby nestled cosily inside his jacket. “He’s fine. Look.”

“Give him to me, please,” she begged.

Sean handed the baby over and urged her into the dingy. “Come on, we need to get out of here before any more crazies turn up.”

“Did you kill all of them around the house?”

“Yes, there were maybe ten or twelve.”

“That’s all that are left on the island.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” She coughed again.

“Okay, but anyway we need to get moving. My friend on the boat is a doctor and I know he’ll want to check you and the baby over just to make sure you’re really okay.”

“Fine.” She let Sean help her to her feet and walked a little unsteadily over to where Steve was waiting.

The transfer back to the boat was accomplished easily and while Sean helped Steve to get the yacht under way, Orlando took the woman and baby down into the cabin.

~~~~

Sean was standing on deck watching the moon set when Orlando joined him on deck. “How are they?”

“Fine, amazingly, even the baby. She’s had something to eat and she’s fed the baby so now I’ve left her down below to catch up on her sleep. So, how about you? Any damage apart from the strong smell of smoke which means you’ll have to wash all your clothes?”

Sean shook his head. “Nope, it was a simple job.”

“Not to hear Isabel talk. You’re her hero, kicking down the door and carrying her and the baby to safety.” 

“Oh bloody Hell.” Sean wrapped an arm around Orlando's waist and pulled him close.

“It’s okay; I told her you were taken.” Orlando turned into Sean so that they were facing each other, their bodies pressed together. 

“You did?”

“Of course I did. I didn’t want her getting the wrong idea.”

It took a while for Sean to work out whether Orlando was kidding. “Did you find out anything about her? How come she was barricaded into the house?”

Orlando nodded and taking his hand pulled him towards the wheel. “Yeah, I did, come on I’ll tell you and Steve at the same time.”

When they were gathered together in the wheel house, Orlando started on the story. “She told me that she’d been staying in the house since the plague. Her husband was on the mainland working and never got back. She and the old man who washed up on the beach were the only survivors. They had some idea what to expect so they collected as many stores as they could and tried to find a house they could strengthen to protect themselves.

“It worked for a time as the crazies stayed mainly in the town when they woke up. Their problems started a bit more than a week ago when the baby was born because they couldn’t always keep him quiet when there were crazies about. She pretty much delivered him herself by the way, which is pretty amazing but something I suspect will be happening a lot more now.”

“How did the crazies survive for so long? Fort William was empty when you went there,” Sean asked.

“It’s pretty gross. Isabel said that as far as they could tell, the crazies would kill one of their own when they ran short of food. So from a group of around thirty, they were now down to nearer ten. If the one chosen as dinner fought hard enough and one of the others died they snacked on them instead. She said it was awful when they would hunt someone.”

“Sounds it. I wonder why this lot managed to become organised? Do you think being trapped on an island made them learn to work together or accelerated their development?”

“It’s a scary thought, isn’t it? Viggo might be able to tell us if the disease will do that.”

“We can discuss it when we get back. He’s certainly going to want to know about the different behaviour,” Steve offered.

“I hope it isn’t a new stage of the disease and those crazies who have survived this far are now developing faster,” Sean said.

“She didn’t know. Anyway, the old man, Alistair, was a fisherman. You were right there, Steve. So he would go out from time to time, when it was safe, to try to catch some fish to give them something else to eat, especially as once the baby was born, Isabel needed more protein.

“One day while Alistair was out, the crazies turned up in force. Isabel couldn’t get out and Alistair couldn’t get back in. Then the crazies spotted him and he had to run. They nearly got him, which explained the bite marks and scratches. The last Isabel saw of him was him rowing away. He’d shouted that he would get some help but she had no idea if anyone would come. The crazies tried all sorts of things to get inside over the next couple of days but she managed to keep them out until they set fire to the house. Then it was only a matter of time. I explained that Alistair was washed up on Barra and how things are fine there and how she is welcome to join us.” 

“She was lucky we showed up when we did,” Sean said.

“She knows that. I think now she’s more relieved that she doesn’t have to do everything for herself. She’s exhausted.”

“Well, we’ll be home in a couple of hours. I’m sure Maggie will take her in; she’ll be good company for Catriona as they must be about the same age. They’ve both lost their men too,” Steve added.

“Sounds like a good idea. Give us a shout if you need help with anything, Steve. We’ll be sitting up front.”

~~~~

The journey back to Castlebay was uneventful and it wasn’t long after dawn when Sean and Orlando were back in their own cosy cottage.

Sean was lying on the sofa which took up most of their living room with Orlando curled up beside him. It had started raining just after they reached the cottage and so they had decided to spend the day inside and catch up on some sleep.

After some time lying there in silence, Orlando said, “I got the feeling that Isabel wasn’t too unhappy that her husband didn’t make it.”

“What? How did that come up in conversation?”

Orlando shrugged the movement obvious against Sean even though he couldn’t really see it. “Maybe because I’m a doctor, people tell me stuff they won’t tell other people.”

“What did she say?”

“He was working on the oil rigs out in the North Sean and used to visit once a month, when he got leave. She hadn’t seen him for nearly six months before the plague happened. Apparently, he kept on making excuses about why he couldn’t get home each time. In the end she was glad to see the back of him.”

“What about her family? Where were they?”

“In Edinburgh, that’s where she met him.”

An idea occurred to Sean. “You know she’s just Viggo’s type.”

“Viggo?” Orlando sounded confused. “But I thought he liked men, I mean you and he were together…”

“So? He’s bi like me but where I prefer men he’s not fussy. I’m sure it’s the old hippy thing; you know not worrying about the gender, it’s about the person.”

“But what about Steve, I thought they were together, I mean they’re sharing the house and everything.”

“Yeah, well, I suspect they are just sharing the house, even though I’ve asked a few times, Vig just said that they slept together occasionally and that it wasn’t anything serious.”

“You reckon friends with benefits, then?” Orlando said around a yawn.

“Maybe.” Sean placed a kiss on the top of his hair. “Tell you what, get some sleep now and we can talk more when we wake up.”

Orlando rolled off the sofa and, grabbing Sean’s hand, pulled him up. “Okay, but we should get into bed; we’ll wreck our backs sleeping on that old thing.”

“It’s just our backs you’re worried about then?” Sean asked as he followed Orlando into the bedroom, a smile on his face.

“Not at all, I worry about your front too. Especially the bits lower down,” Orlando responded with a matching smile as his hands went to the buttons on Sean’s shirt.


	11. Day 233: 31 December 2003

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sean and Orlando celebrate their first Hogmanay on Barra

Sean pulled his coat closer around himself as he waited outside the small thatched cottage that he and Orlando called home. The fledgling love that had existed between them when they came to the island had grown and now Sean couldn’t imagine spending the rest of his life with anyone apart from Orlando. 

The past six months hadn’t been all plain sailing. He and Orlando could both be stubborn at times and that had led to a number of impressive arguments. Fortunately, they had always been able to clear the air, discussing their differences rationally eventually, reaching a sensible compromise. Of course after arguing they both felt they ought to make up, which unsurprisingly had come to be one of Sean’s favourite occupations.

Breathing in the cold, salty air, Sean turned towards the hill that rose behind their cottage. In a sky full of stars, a small sliver of moon was slowly setting. It was a wonderful vista and one he appreciated constantly.

Stamping his feet impatiently, Sean shouted, “Come on, Orli, Davie will be here with the cart soon, and Maggie will have told him not to wait for us.” With fuel now a precious commodity the community had made the decision to rely on horses for transport and to work the land whenever possible. He and Orlando had become proficient riders in the past few months but, because it was likely they would be drinking tonight, they were leaving their horses bedded down and snug in their stable. Davie MacNeil, Maggie’s grandson had volunteered to collect them and make sure they got home again after the ceilidh. 

“Keep your hair on, I’m ready.” Orlando came through the low doorway as he spoke, an oil lantern in his hand. He was muffled up in a thick jacket, with a hand knitted scarf – a present from a grateful islander - around his neck. Being the only properly qualified doctor on Barra kept him busy but Orlando loved his work. In addition, Sean’s skills in planning and improvisation had quickly made them both welcome in the small community. 

They’d only been waiting outside for a few minutes when Sean heard the sounds of a horse and cart approaching and in no time, Davie drew up close to the gate.

As they both climbed into the back of the cart Orlando said, “Evening, Davie, thanks for coming to pick us up.”

“It’s no bother, Dr Lan. I was pleased to get away from Gran for a while, she’s been sending everyone mad with her redding today.”

“Redding? What’s that?” Sean wanted to know.

“Och, it’s a Hogmanay tradition. It means cleaning the house from top to bottom to start the New Year afresh,” Davie said. “Have you never spent Hogmanay in Scotland before, Sean?”

Sean shook his head, not that Davie could see it as his concentration was focused on the track in front of them. “No I’ve not. So, tell me, Davie, is there anything else I should know about, so that I don’t make a fool of myself?”

The horse seemed to know he was on his way home because he quickened his pace and Davie had to rein him in before replying. “Well, have you heard of first footing?”

“No, what’s that?”

“It’s another tradition to ensure luck for the coming year. The first person to enter your house should be a dark haired man and he should bring certain things with him.”

“What things?”

“Ah, I know that,” Orlando interrupted, “It can include coal, shortbread and whisky. It’s all symbolic, to mean warmth, food and good cheer. With whisky you are supposed to share a ‘wee dram’ from the bottle you’ve brought before moving on to the next house. I’m not sure how that’s going to work tonight.”

“Aye, that’s right,” Davie agreed. “Sometimes the first foot brings coins for prosperity too.”

“So how’s that going to work this year, with everyone who can get there gathered together in the village hall?” Sean was curious about the traditions as it was the first time he’d experienced them first hand.

“I’m not too sure as it usually means the first one over everyone’s doorstep, but I think Gran has thought of something though she’s keeping it a secret at the moment.” There was silence for a bit as Davie concentrated on the horse again, and then he said, “So, Sean, have you been practising your dancing?”

“Give over.” Sean was sure his face had reddened despite the cold, “I don’t dance, I’ve got two left feet.”

“Och, that’s a shame, I know there are several lassies who were hoping to get you to partner them. Oh well, I know Dr Lan is going to be asked to join in lots of the dances.”

Sean bristled momentarily at the idea but then relaxed; he and Orlando hadn’t made any great secret of their relationship when they had arrived on Barra, though they’d kept the open displays of affection low key. He was therefore fairly sure that none of the single women would expect anything more than a dance.

~~~~

As they entered the hall, Sean saw immediately the efforts that had gone into decorating the open space. There were lanterns on all the tables, giving the room a warm glow. Cloths hung against most of the walls, covering the drab grey paint which was usually visible. But what took Sean’s breath away were the paintings which covered the fabric, scenes of mountains and lochs, deer and birds of prey soaring over a heather covered landscape. He didn’t know who the artist was but there was no doubting their talent.

“Wow.” Orlando was reduced to one syllable.

Maggie came over to greet them. A small birdlike woman, she still commanded the respect of all the islanders. She was dressed in a black velvet dress with a blue and green MacNeil tartan, sash over one shoulder. Her heavily pregnant grand-daughter Catriona stood beside her. She also wore a dark dress with a sash, but this tartan was mostly red with white lines running through it. Sean knew it was the MacLean tartan which she used because of her marriage to a member of the MacLean clan.

“Sean and Orlando, welcome. I hope you enjoy the evening.” Maggie gave them a smile, “And I fully expect to see you both joining in the dancing tonight.”

Looking around the hall, Sean could see that there were a fair number of islanders already there. A group of those who were musically inclined were up on the stage playing some traditional tunes.

“It looks wonderful, Maggie,” Orlando said as he bent and kissed her wrinkled cheek.

“Aye, we’ve been preparing for weeks now.”

“Who’s the artist?” Sean wanted to know. “The pictures are amazing.”

“Me and Isabel.” 

Sean turned as Viggo came up behind him. “I didn’t know you painted.”

“Ah, that just goes to show you don’t know everything about me.”

“They’re fabulous.”

More people were coming into the hall behind them so Maggie pointed to a table slightly separated from the rest of those in the room. “I’d like you to join my family this evening; Davie will take your coats and show you to your seats.”

Apart from Steve and Viggo, Isabel joined them at their table while they ate and Sean grinned to notice that she and Viggo spent a lot of time talking and he didn’t think it was just about the painting they had done together.

~~~~

The evening passed quickly and, once he had downed a few measures of Scotch, Sean joined in the dancing. Orlando had been dancing for most of the evening, throwing himself around with gusto. Sean glimpsed him sometimes between other dancers, with his hair longer and falling in wild curls around his face he looked incredible. Sean knew he was the luckiest man alive.

A few minutes before midnight, Maggie took Orlando to one side and had a whispered conversation with him. Sean had watched the interplay and had wondered what was going on. Orlando’s brilliant smile at whatever Maggie said had reassured him that it wasn’t anything bad.

Orlando came and sat beside him, their shoulders just touching. “I’m going outside for a little while. Everything is fine and I’ll be back soon. Okay?”

A bit drowsy from the heat in the room not to mention the whisky he’d drunk, Sean nodded. “Sure thing. Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll only be a couple of minutes.”

Sean watched him leave the room and then turned his attention back to the music. A few minutes passed and Sean grew perturbed as it looked as though Orlando was going to miss the dawning of the New Year when the band stopped playing and everyone started counting down from ten but before he could go and look for his lover, Maggie grabbed his arm and amid the cheers and shouts of Happy New Year she said, “The laddie is fine. He’ll be back in a moment or two.”

“But...” Sean began.

“Shh, Sean, have you never heard of first footing?”

“Yes, Davie explained it when he was driving us here.”

“Well then, just bide a while.”

Moments later the crowd grew quiet and almost immediately there was a loud knocking on the door of the hall and Viggo, who had been standing closest, pulled it open. As Orlando entered the room, a bottle of scotch in one hand and a cloth bag in the other a loud cheer went up from the assembled crowd.

Silence fell quickly again and in the quiet, Sean heard Orlando say, “Bliadhna mhath ur *! I bring gifts for this house to welcome the New Year, may it bring prosperity, food, warmth and good cheer to all who live on this island.”

There was an even louder cheer and the band immediately struck up Auld Lang Syne. Everyone gathered into a circle, linking hands as they sang the words. Sean’s eyes met Orlando’s as they stood on opposite sides of the circle and suddenly it was as though they were the only two people in the room. When the song ended, the music changed to a dancing tune and before Sean could reach him, Orlando was swept up into the set for the next dance. This one seemed to involve lots of partner swapping and every time Orlando came into contact with a new partner, the girl or woman, kissed him soundly. When Viggo too got into the act, Sean knew it was time to rescue his lover so, pushing through the crowd, he grabbed Orlando’s hand and pulled him over to their table. They sat down and Orlando threw his arms around Sean’s neck.

“Did you see that Maggie asked me to be the one to first foot? It was such an honour, being an outsider and all.”

Sean took Orlando by the shoulders and shook him slightly. “Don’t be daft; you must know that they don’t consider you to be an outsider any longer. Isn’t it obvious they don’t think that about either of us? I don’t know about you but I feel more welcome here than I’ve ever done anywhere.”

“Oh, Sean, I didn’t mean it like that. I know we’ve been taken in and made part of the community here. It’s just that I’m not a Scot but they let me take a huge part in their Hogmanay celebration and I’m really touched by it.”

A little overwhelmed by Orlando’s obvious pleasure, Sean pulled him into his arms and allowed himself a brief kiss. The combination of the wonderful evening and the Scotch was making him randy and he knew if he did anything else, he’d be tempted to risk frostbite and drag Orlando outside. While he had soon discovered his lover wasn’t adverse to alfresco sex in the warmth of a long summer evening, Orlando was sure to be somewhat less enthusiastic in the depths of winter.

A little while later, people began to drift home and soon Davie was handing them their coats and waiting to take them back to their cottage. In good weather it was only a twenty minute walk following a rough track to the cottage but at night and in bad weather, the road was the only sensible route and, as it followed the coast, it took roughly twice as long.

It even colder on the way home so he and Orlando wrapped themselves in the woollen blankets in the back of the cart as Davie drove. With Orlando curled against him, Sean thought back over the evening, which had ended up being a lot more fun than he’d anticipated. There were bound to be a lot of sore heads amongst the islanders in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Happy New Year pronounced blee-unna va oor


	12. Day 234: 1 January 2004

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new year is something to look forward to - or perhaps not...

When Sean woke it was still dark and he was instantly aware of the comforting warmth of Orlando at his side. He turned over so that he could huddle up to his lover. In spite of the peat fire he’d carefully banked the night before, it felt colder and he could hear hail hitting the windows of the small stone house. He wondered if it might snow soon.

Despite the temperature they both slept naked and Sean found himself pushing closer so that his cock was pressed against Orlando’s arse. If he hadn’t been hard already, the way Orlando wriggled against him would have guaranteed it. It also meant that his partner wasn’t really asleep any longer. Using his hand to brush the hair covering Orlando’s neck to one side, Sean began to nuzzle at the soft skin there, loving the small shudder Orlando gave when he licked a stripe across his nape. 

“Jesus, Sean, don’t tease me. I want you.”

Sean couldn’t stifle a chuckle, “Again? You didn’t get enough of me last night?”

“You’re addictive.”

When Sean moved his lips to his lover’s shoulder, Orlando let out a moan of pleasure. 

“How do you want it?” Sean whispered.

“Just like this.”

Orlando was still loose from the night before so Sean only had to use a minimal amount of lubricant to slip inside him easily. Setting an easy pace, Sean reached around and held his lover’s cock, letting his movement supply all the stimulation needed. It didn’t take long before Orlando was writhing against him, pushing back onto his cock and then forward into his hand. His lover came with a deep sigh of pleasure and it only took another couple of thrusts before Sean followed, stifling his groan of release against Orlando’s shoulder.

After using an old cloth to clean up the worst of the mess Orlando turned within Sean’s arms, lying with his eyes closed, a smile of satisfaction playing over his lips.

“You okay?” Sean asked.

“Better than okay. It was definitely my lucky day when I jumped over your car.”

Overcome, Sean mumbled. “Mine too.” 

Sean let himself be pulled into Orlando’s arms. Enjoying the closeness and shared warmth Sean closed his eyes and effortlessly slipped back into sleep.

~~~~

Sean had just taken a saucepan of porridge off the peat stove they used for cooking when there was a loud banging on their door. Orlando hurried over to answer it. Sean turned enough to see young Davie MacNeil standing there. “Come in out of the rain, Davie,” Orlando urged. The teenager stumbled inside and Orlando closed the door. 

“What’s the matter, lad?” Sean asked.

“It’s our Catriona, her baby’s on the way and Gran thinks it’s coming feet first,” the boy answered breathlessly as he stood dripping water all over the stone flagged floor.

“Okay, I’ll come right away. Just let me get my bag,” Orlando said as he hurried over to a cupboard against the wall where he kept his medical kit. “Sean, can you saddle Percy for me?”

“There’s no need, I’ve brought a spare horse with me,” Davie interrupted.

“Good lad.” Sean knew Orlando wouldn’t have time to eat before he set off so he cut two thick slices of bread, spread them with butter and put a slice of cheese in between them. Wrapping the rough sandwich in a piece of brown paper, he pushed it into Orlando’s hand as he hurried out the door, without the chance to even say goodbye.

With only the sound of the rain for company Sean helped himself to some porridge before sitting down with his delayed breakfast. While eating he went over the previous evening’s ceilidh in his mind again. It had been a brilliant night and had confirmed how welcome he and Orlando had been made by the islanders.

Of course Sean had expected Orlando to fit in immediately, his easy going way and playful attitude as much as his skills as a doctor making him a very important person to the community. While Sean didn’t have any obvious skills he could share, he had long suspected that Viggo had vouched for his usefulness. Viggo himself could do no wrong either as far as the islanders were concerned. He’d created a vaccine to protect them from the plague and was doing his best to help guide the community in the absence of the clan chief. 

During his first few months on Barra Sean and Steve had looked at ways to defend the island against attack, in case MacQuillan and his goons ever tracked Viggo down. They had also spent some time giving basic training with weapons and unarmed combat to most of the able bodied men and women. Around twenty others, who had previous experience in the armed forces, received more intensive training. The latter group would be the primary force called on in case of an incident.

Orlando had joined in those lessons and, as Sean knew to his cost, he had learnt them very well. Sean hoped it would be enough. If MacQuillan came in with a squad of heavily armed men, there would be nothing they could do. Sean hoped that if MacQuillan had only a few men, then Orlando and Steve’s enhanced abilities, as well as his own, would be enough to tip the balance in their favour. Not that Sean honestly believed Orlando would ever have the right mind-set for a soldier. He was a born doctor, loving his work and the fact that he was able to help people.

With the turn of the year, Sean had begun to hope that MacQuillan and his people were no longer a threat because they had perished alongside the billions of innocent victims of their misguided experimentation. 

Finishing the last of his breakfast, Sean put the pot and bowl in the sink to soak, while he thought over his tasks for the day. With the onset of winter, things had quietened down considerably and although Barra didn’t have much snow as a rule, he suspected that the wet winter weather would make the need to work outside in the fields minimal. The animals that weren’t being kept over the winter had already been slaughtered and the meat salted. On calm days, Sean was determined to make sure that those who could went fishing. The catch would make a pleasant change from salted meat and would help eke out their rapidly diminishing supplies. There was also an abundant supply of rabbits on the island, so he ought to organise a group to set snares. Feeding the five hundred people on the island without any help from outside was taking a lot of organisation and re-thinking set habits.

It was still raining hard so rather than setting out early for his meeting with Viggo, Sean elected to make their bed and tidy the cottage. The whole thing only took fifteen minutes but it would mean that when Orlando came back from delivering the third addition to the island’s population they could relax and enjoy some quiet time together.

Sean wasn’t looking forward to the meeting, it was sure to be a repeat of their previous discussions which always left Sean feeling frustrated and angry. For someone who was such a visionary in his work, Viggo was being a complete pain in the arse about going forward with Sean’s plan to move the islanders to a new home. Their talks had dragged on for almost three months so far, with little or no progress. Had it been about anything else, Sean would probably have abandoned the whole thing but this scheme was something he knew was imperative for the survival of their small community.

~~~~

Sean faced Viggo across the table angrily. “Fuck it, Vig, I know living on an island makes it more defensible, but we’ve agreed to look for somewhere else where the weather will let us grow more fresh food. We’re going to end up with incidents of scurvy or worse soon. We’ve been going over this same argument for months and it’s beginning to wear pretty thin.”

“I know all that, Sean, but until you can show me the place you have in mind and prove that it is going to be better and safer for everyone, I’m not going to agree to uproot the whole community. Most of the families here have been here for generations,” Viggo argued vehemently.

“For Christ’s sake, you’re going to condemn them to a slow death if you all stay here. I don’t want to have to watch that happen!”

Viggo drew himself up to his full height and glared back at Sean. “Well, if that’s the way you feel, maybe you ought to leave the island and go and find some other people who are willing to let you ride roughshod over their feelings.”

At first Sean was stunned at his words, and then he grew angry. The temptation to snap back at Viggo was almost overwhelming but Sean tried to bite down on his anger before he said something he would regret. How dare Viggo even suggest that Sean wanted to leave? He and Orlando had made a home here and Sean was determined that the people who had accepted them so readily would be safe for the foreseeable future.

Taking a deep breath Sean let it out slowly, taking his time and trying to order his thoughts. The last thing he wanted to do was alienate Viggo and he was at a loss how to explain that to him. For a moment, Sean wished Orlando was with him to help him find a way out of this impasse. But right now that wasn’t possible; Orlando was off doing what he did best, caring for others.

“Come on, Vig, I didn’t mean it like that. This is mine and Orlando’s home now too.”

“Then why are you so set on leaving?”

Sean abruptly felt the fight go out of him so he sat down on a convenient chair. Finally he said, “What do you want me to say? I thought we’d agreed that we should look at moving. To build the population to sustainable levels we need somewhere we can produce a wider variety of food in greater quantities.”

Viggo sat down alongside Isabel. “So why are you so keen to rush this through, Sean?”

“Rushing? For God’s sake that’s the last thing you should be accusing me of, Vig. I’ve listed how much there is to do before we can even consider moving countless times, but if you want I can do it again. The first thing to do is check out the rest of the islands so that we know if there are any more organised crazies close by; by doing that we can judge if we are safe to take our time with getting things ready. We’re planning to bring the ferries over next spring so we can work on converting one to carry livestock. Then we need to work out where we should go. You and Orlando will know best but I’m going to suggest that we avoid major built up areas – you couldn’t grow anything there anyway. There are a couple of places on the mainland, near Poolewe, that have unusually mild weather because of the Gulf Stream, which I’d like to investigate. Somewhere like that we could be nearly self-sufficient.”

“Okay, Sean, I promise I’ll think about it. But what about MacQuillan?”

“MacQuillan? It’s been nearly six months and he would have had to be living somewhere that was hermetically sealed to have avoided infection. And even if he has survived, all of us have been exposed in one way or another, even if it was the adapted virus you used in your vaccine. MacQuillan would be at risk if he came anywhere near us. It would be a complete bollocks if someone like that contracted the virus and survived. I honestly think he’s long gone.”

“There are shelters you can buy for a few hundred dollars, which were built with a view to allowing people to live in isolation for up to six months. I know I don’t need to remind you that the man was a multi-billionaire. He wasn’t stupid; he would have planned for all eventualities.”

“Okay, assuming he is still alive how will he find us?”

“I don’t know but moving five hundred people and all their possessions on two big ferries is going to make us an obvious target and I want to be sure that MacQuillan, his goons and any other self-interested groups like that are out of the way before we expose ourselves to any greater risks.”

“How can I guarantee that, Vig? I think he’s dead. If he was still alive he’s going to have his own problems.”

Viggo didn’t answer; instead he stood and headed over to the stove, picking up the coffee pot and pouring two mugs, one of which he handed to Isabel. 

He didn’t offer Sean a cup which suited him just fine, soon, drinking coffee would be a thing of the past. Maybe it was his recent background as an analyst but sometimes Sean felt like he was the only one who was aware of how their lives would have to change for them and their descendants to survive into the future. The human race couldn’t go forward by scavenging the relics of the past, they needed to start afresh with all that involved. 

Coming back to the table Viggo sat down again, placing his mug in front of himself precisely. “You know for a former spy, you’re very trusting. MacQuillan is an out and out bastard and he will not give up trying to turn this situation to his advantage until he is dead.”

Relieved that Viggo sounded as though he was willing to at least listen, Sean said, “I think I’m being a realist, Vig.”

“What if the islanders won’t move?”

“They will if you explain to them why they have to. You know as well as I do that they think the sun shines out of your arse.” Sean had to smile at that image and he was glad to see that Viggo did too.

“I’ll think about it.”

“So can we look at options over the next couple of months?”

Finally, Viggo nodded. “Okay.”

“Thanks, Vig. As one of the leaders of this community you’ve got to look to the future.”

“Leave it now, Sean. I’ve agreed to think it over some more.” With that Viggo stood and walked to the door. When he got there he turned to face Isabel. “It’s stopped raining so I’m going for a walk; you want to come with me?”

“I’ll be there in just a second.” Isabel’s soft response made Sean realise that he’d almost forgotten she was there; she’d been so quiet during his and Viggo's argument.

“Is he okay? Is there something else going on I don’t know about?” Sean questioned once Viggo had walked through the door.

Isabel walked over to the doorway and began to pull on her boots. “He’s fine. I don’t think he’d reckoned on being made one of the leaders here and being given so much responsibility. It’s weighing on him.”

Wondering just how Isabel knew so much about Viggo’s state of mind when he didn't Sean snapped, “I hadn’t planned on it either.”

With a hurt look, she said, “Viggo told me you were an NCO in the army and with the SAS before you joined MI6.”

“Yeah. So?” Sean tried to soften his tone; it wasn’t her fault Viggo was behaving like an arse. He also needed her backing for the move.

“So you are used to giving orders and making decisions. Taking charge here isn’t as difficult for you as it is for Viggo. You need to stop pushing him so hard. Making decisions that can affect hundreds of people aren’t ones you should make lightly and Viggo knows that.” 

Isabel waited a few moments, probably to make sure that Sean had heard what she said, before following Viggo out the door, leaving Sean alone.

Isabel’s words made Sean think, and on reflection, maybe he hadn’t been fair to Viggo, pushing him into a situation that he had no experience of and forcing him to take, at least partial responsibility, for more than five hundred people. With a flash of insight Sean realised that he had also expected Viggo’s unquestioning agreement to his plans for the future of the islanders. 

Knowing that he and Viggo would have to talk some more and clear the air, Sean headed for the door. He was going to start by finding Viggo and apologising for pushing him. Then they were going to sort out some ground rules for how they worked together. They both had the welfare of the islanders at heart so it shouldn’t be too difficult to come to an agreement.

Walking outside Sean scanned the landscape to try to see Viggo or Isabel. Fortunately a brisk wind was rapidly blowing the remaining clouds and mist away and he didn’t have too much trouble spotting them as they walked away over the rough ground that separated the house from the beach. 

Ignoring the horses in the paddock that came over to the fence to say hello, Sean began to jog after them. Before he could reach them, he heard the sound of running footsteps behind him. Turning quickly, he spotted young Davie MacNeil heading, at breakneck speed, along the path. Isabel, with her enhanced hearing must have heard Davie too because she pulled at Viggo’s arm and said something before they began running back towards the house. 

Seeing Sean, Davie stopped and bent over trying to catch his breath. “Sean...” the boy gasped.

“Wait a minute, lad. Viggo will be here in a second. Get your breath back and you can tell us both whatever is so important.”

“What’s the matter?” Viggo demanded. He too was breathing heavily.

“Give the poor bairn a minute to catch his breath,” Isabel told him off.

Taking a huge breath, Davie blurted out, “Men in protective suits. Coming to Gran’s house.”

Sean felt the icy hand of dread clutch at his chest and began firing questions. “Men? What men? Who are they? How many of them are there?”

“Gran saw them from the window, so she told me to run and get you.”

“I’ll go and get Steve, he’s just over at the Galbraith house. I’ll be back in five minutes,” Viggo shouted as he rushed away along the road.

“Viggo! Come back you idiot!” Sean called after him but he was wasting his time as Viggo quickly moved out of sight. 

“How many are there?” Isabel asked the boy.

“I saw five.”

“Did any of them see you?” Sean wanted to know.

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Och, I’m sure. I went down the back stairs and out through the coal shed before they got into the house. I stayed in the trees once I got behind the house, they would never have seen me.”

“Who’s in the house?” Sean asked.

“Just Gran, Catriona and Dr Lan. Oh, and the new baby. He was born about fifteen minutes before we saw the men. Gran tried to get Dr Lan to leave with me but he said he couldn’t leave Catriona or the baby. He said it was too soon.”

“Are the men armed?”

Davie nodded. “Aye, they were all carrying guns.”

Viggo and Steve were jogging towards them so Sean waited impatiently until they arrived. He had to take charge and put the plans they had made into operation but in reality, all he wanted to do was rush off and make sure that Orlando was safe.

Sean saw another figure appear, riding a mountain bike madly along the track behind Viggo and Steve. Bloody Hell! What else was happening!

Donald MacKinnon flew past Viggo and Steve and slid to a halt in front of Sean.

“Sean! A plane landed up at Traigh Mhor. Dad said it looked like a Hercules transport plane. Six men and two Land Rovers came off it and took the east road towards Castlebay.”

“Donald, did all of the men go in the Land Rovers or did they leave some guarding the plane? What about the pilot?”

“We saw ten men in all on the beach so they must have left four on guard. I think there were two men in in the cockpit as well but they stayed there, as though they were planning to take off again very soon. The tide is due to turn in a couple of hours so they don’t have much time unless they want to wait for another twelve hours.”

“Are you sure they were heading for Castlebay?”

“Aye, the Land Rovers passed me on the road but I hid myself and my bike in a ditch until they’d gone past. The road only goes to Castlebay.”

Sean turned to Davie, “Did the men arrive at the house in Land Rovers? And Donald said there were six of them, so do you think one could have stayed with the vehicles so you wouldn’t have seen him?”

“Why does that matter?” Viggo said before Davie could answer.

“Because I need to know that there is only one group of men in hazmat suits on the island and that their target is the Great House before I make plans.”

Davie nodded. “Aye, they did. They parked them on the drive outside the front door. I suppose one man could have stayed with the cars and I didn’t see him.”

Sean’s mind was working overtime while he tried to work out how to combat the invaders. After what seemed to him to be hours of indecision but must in reality have only been moments, Sean began snapping out orders, grateful that he and Steve had spent a lot of time training the island men for such a situation. 

“Okay, Viggo, start saddling horses for us. I need to get to the house and see what the situation is. Davie, you take one of the horses and go overland to Borve and raise the alarm. But before you go, I need you to draw me a plan of the house as I don’t know the full layout in the event we have to get inside. Donald, you take the villages on the east side of the island. Be careful both of you, don’t let anyone see you. Tell the men to meet us at the gatehouse and bring their weapons. If they come in through the back door they can’t be seen from the Great House. Steve, can you and Viggo go over my place and collect the rest of the weapons and then bring them to the gatehouse?”

Viggo grabbed at his arm to stop him moving. “They could be here peacefully; you need to talk to them before you go in guns blazing.”

“A Hercules is a military aircraft, Vig. Whoever landed is here for a specific reason. As they didn’t wait until we contacted them and are carrying weapons openly, I’m going to assume they’re not the good guys until they prove otherwise.”

“So what are you going to do, Sean? I know Orlando is inside but you can’t go charging in on your own unprepared.”

“Don’t worry, Vig. I’m only going to scout the area. If they want to talk I’ll listen to what they have to say. But if they hurt anyone…” Sean left the sentence hanging.

~~~~

Sean took the first horse saddled and by staying off road was soon descending the hill behind the Great House. From his vantage point he could see Kisimul Castle, the ancestral home of the MacNeils, out in the bay. 

To keep his mind off the danger to Orlando, he tried to remember what Maggie had told him about the history of the castle. She’d said it had been used up until the eighteen thirties when the family had sold the island. After that the castle had fallen into disrepair until the last chief had bought it back just before the Second World War. He’d made some effort to repair it but by then the family was comfortably settled in the large manor house and so they’d leased the castle for an annual rent of one pound and a bottle of whisky to Historic Scotland so it could be opened to the public. Right now, Sean wished that they were all safely locked up inside the castle; its position surrounded by the sea made it pretty much impregnable. 

When he reached the fence marking the boundary of the property, he headed left, taking a winding route around to the gatehouse which stood about thirty yards from the main house. Dismounting, Sean hurried inside and over to the window that overlooked the Great House. 

During the breakneck ride he’d decided to work on the basis that it was MacQuillan he was dealing with. Who else would have access to an aircraft like a Hercules and come to Barra? 

Remembering what Donald had said about low tide up at the beach airstrip Sean guessed that this was planned as a straight forward in and out job. That way they wouldn’t need to wear the suits for longer than a few hours. An additional worry was how he was he going to be able to communicate with them? The suits were going to make that very difficult.

Heading for the biggest house on the island made sense, especially if you were Derek MacQuillan. His sense of perspective was so skewed that he would not be able to imagine Viggo wanting to live anywhere other than the grandest mansion. Now, MacQuillan didn’t have Viggo, but he did have four hostages including Orlando.

How could Sean make sure they got out of this alive without giving up Viggo?

The key was timing; MacQuillan and his men were desperate to attempt the trip and they needed to be back on the plane in less than two hours if they wanted to make the tide and a clean getaway. All Sean had to do was delay them without putting the hostages into more danger. Orlando’s presence was going to add a complication to an already difficult situation. He was first and foremost a doctor and would take looking after people to ridiculous lengths. He wouldn’t think twice about putting himself into danger to save someone else which made him a piss poor soldier.

Sean heard noises behind him and turned as Viggo and Steve came into the living room of the gatehouse. Steve was carrying a large bag which he deposited on the floor carefully.

“I’ve brought the all guns I could find, the rpg launcher and some stun grenades in case they are needed. The McCormack boys arrived at the same time as us so I’ve given them the sniper rifles and sent them over to keep an eye on the airport.” Steve handed Sean a small radio. “I’ve also given them the other radio so that you can pass on orders. There is probably enough power left in the batteries for a couple of hours.” 

Sean nodded, between them he and Steve had more than thirty years military experience and the home advantage. That had to tip the balance in their favour.

Very shortly more men arrived, some out of breath because they’d run all the way, and others on the small hardy island ponies. Sending Viggo off to organise a temporary coral for the horses, Sean turned to Steve. “It has to be MacQuillan; from what I’ve learned about him he’s used to getting his own way in everything. So if we don’t do what he wants he’ll kill the hostages without a second thought. Even if we considered handing Viggo over he will still kill them. Having the power of life or death over others is like a drug for him.”

“You know more about handling this kind of situation than me so how do you want to play this?” Steve asked.

“We need to delay for two reasons, one is the tide, if we can keep them here until the tide begins to turn they can’t fly out for another ten or twelve hours and that is too long to be stuck in one of those suits. Two we need more men here so we can get the house surrounded.”

“I could go up to the airport and take control of the plane. That way they aren’t going to be able to leave no matter the state of the tide.”

Sean knew it was a risk but he thought it was one worth taking. “Yeah okay. Do that. This is going to end here once and for all. I don’t want Viggo to have to keep on looking over his shoulder.”

Steve nodded. “Okay, no bother. What do you want us to do with the men there?”

“If they surrender take them prisoner but you know there’s no hope for them if they’re already sick because the vaccine won’t work.”

“What about the pilots? There’s still some fuel up at Traigh Mhor, couldn’t we use the plane to recce possible accommodation later on?”

Sean thought briefly about the idea and nodded. “Okay, if the pilots aren’t sick and you can capture them then do it, but I don’t want any of the islanders put at risk. If all else fails blow the plane sky high.”

“I’ll radio when the job’s done.”

“Okay. I’m going to wait for him to contact me and then I’ll try to delay him. There’s an outside chance his men are already sick so delaying will play into our hands.” Sean knew he was gambling but his instincts were telling him that MacQuillan was here himself because this was his last chance. He was betting everything on getting an antidote to the virus from Viggo. It must mean that the virus had finally breached MacQuillan’s lair. Just the logistics of getting halfway round the world would need a huge amount of planning. A Hercules had a range of nearly four thousand miles without needing to re-fuel, so to get from MacQuillan’s base to Barra would have meant re-fuelling at least twice and would have taken at least two to three days, depending on the ease of finding fuel. 

Over the next twenty minutes more men arrived and Sean sent them to move into the grounds of the Great House with instructions to spread out around the building, find some good cover and wait.

When the radio beeped at him Sean instantly pressed the send button. “Steve, is everything okay?”

“Aye. Mission accomplished. The men they left here were already sick so they didn’t put up much of a fight. One of the pilots was in a bad way but the other is all right for now.” 

“And all our men are okay?”

“Aye, we’re all fine.”

“Secure the prisoner and leave the lads on guard with the radio and come on back here as quickly as you can. MacQuillan is bound to make his move soon.”

No sooner had the words left Sean’s mouth than he heard a strange electronically produced voice ring out. It sounded as though the words were coming out of the speaker of an old fashioned radio with lots of crackles and hisses of static. “My name is Derek MacQuillan. I want to speak to Dr Viggo Mortensen immediately.” 

Grabbing Viggo’s arm before he could answer, Sean motioned him to silence. Then he shouted, “He’s not here.”

“Well, well, another non Scottish accent like the good doctor’s. How interesting. Who am I speaking to?”

“Viggo is on the other side of the island and isn’t expected back for at least an hour.” Sean deliberately didn’t identify himself.

There was a few moments pause and then MacQuillan replied, “I do hope you aren’t thinking of trying to trick me. I would dislike that intensely, which can only have bad repercussions for your friends here. We are on a very tight deadline.”

That he was already threatening the hostages only confirmed Sean’s opinion that MacQuillan was desperate and that meant he was extremely dangerous.

Sean shouted, “I’d like to talk to you, face to face.”

“Very well, but in case you need reminding, I have four hostages here in case you should consider trying anything.”

Determined to play for as much time as possible, Sean put his gun on a table and went over and opened the front door. Moving slowly and deliberately, he walked over the grass that covered the grounds outside the Great House. He made sure to avoid getting too close to the parked vehicles but was able to see that there was indeed a man on guard there. Trying hard to appear non-threatening, he kept his hands clasped loosely in front of him and waited for MacQuillan to join him.

Moments later the door of the house opened and a figure in a bulky suit came outside. He moved to within ten feet of Sean and stopped. “Well, well, Mr Bean, how interesting to see you here. I didn’t know you were acquainted with Dr Mortensen but I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised considering how you and your organisation were such a thorn in my side for so long. I honestly thought our last little run in had discouraged you permanently.” MacQuillan’s voice was muffled by his protective helmet.

“What do you mean?” Sean’s mind was racing. Was it possible that recent traumatic events across the world were all focused on this one small group of people?

“Well given your reported injuries I thought we had taken you out of the picture for good.”

“You were responsible for the attack on my team?”

“Yes, you were getting too close to the truth so I had to take action.”

Even more stunned by that revelation, Sean tried to remain calm, asking the first question that came into his head. “Did you release the virus deliberately?”

“The escape of the virus was a regrettable accident, not my fault at all. You wouldn’t understand the problem of finding the right staff for a project of this magnitude.”

The arrogance was unmistakable and it was clear to Sean that MacQuillan was dangerous, unpredictable and more importantly, completely unhinged. He had financed and run the project for many years; how could he think that it wasn’t his responsibility?

“But enough talk, I’m keen to get out of this damnably uncomfortable suit. If you could bring Dr Mortensen and his antidote here, we’ll be on our way,” MacQuillan said imperiously.

“There is no antidote.” Sean chose his words carefully making sure he wasn’t lying, just bending the truth a little.

“Don’t treat me like a fool, Mr Bean. I’ve had months to study hundreds of satellite images while being trapped in a controlled environment. This island is the only location on earth where life has been able to continue as normal. That is not a coincidence.”

“Maybe it’s caused by a natural immunity. These island communities tend to share a lot of genetic traits.”

Sean saw increasing signs of anger in MacQuillan’s body language even though his face wasn’t easily visible through the small visor on his suit helmet. “Do not underestimate me, Mr Bean. You came here from London, therefore you had to have been exposed to the virus. Mortensen would not have let you come to the island and endanger the resident population unless he had produced an antidote.”

Sean shrugged and raised his hands in a gesture of apology. “I can’t give you something that doesn’t exist. Viggo knew I wouldn’t be a danger to the islanders because they are immune to the disease.”

Turning to go back into the Great house, MacQuillan’s voice was still audible through the electronic device. “This is your last warning. I want Mortensen and his antidote ready to leave with me in the next ten minutes or the hostages will suffer. You already have the deaths of four men in your team on your hands, Mr Bean. Don’t add another four people, one of them a baby, to that list.”

“Wait,” Sean shouted.

“Why?”

“Even if there was an antidote – which there isn’t – Viggo is on the other side of the island. We don’t have any motorised transport any longer. I’ve sent messenger to him but it will take time.”

MacQuillan turned back to face Sean but his expression was unreadable through the small visor. Sean had worn a similar suit during some exercises once and he knew how uncomfortable it was. MacQuillan tilted his head to one side, as though he was considering the truth of Sean’s words.

Finally he said, “Very well. You have precisely an hour to get Dr Mortensen here.”

“Will you allow the women and Orlando to leave the house? I’ll offer myself as a replacement hostage.”

“Orlando? Oh yes, that must be the young doctor.”

For a moment Sean thought MacQuillan would agree to his suggestion but the hope died when MacQuillan shook his head. “Not at this stage of negotiations, I think.” The suited man looked at a large watch strapped to his wrist, “You have exactly an hour, Mr Bean, before life becomes very unpleasant for the hostages.” With that parting comment he turned and headed clumsily back towards the door of the Great House.

~~~~

While he waited for Steve to get back, Sean went over the diagram of the house until he was sure he could walk through every room blindfold. He wasn’t certain he would have to enter the house but he wanted to be prepared in case. Whatever happened, he couldn’t allow MacQuillan to know anything about his relationship with Orlando . The man was a bastard and would use that knowledge to twist the knife if he could. 

Viggo walked over and stood in front of him and began speaking quietly. “I’ll go with him, Sean, rather than let anything happen to Maggie, Orlando or Catriona. You know as well as I do that the vaccine won’t be of any use if he’s already sick.” 

“I know, Vig, but we can’t trust him to keep his word. Once he has you, he’ll kill them just because he can. Anyway, it’s not going to happen, we have control of the plane so they have no way off the island and when MacQuillan finds that out, he’s going to retaliate.”

“What are we going to do then? We can’t just sit here.”

“We’re going to wait for Steve to get back because he’s going to take a couple of men into the house and see if he can take some of MacQuillan’s men down without any fuss and maybe get some of the hostages out. They are all wearing those protective suits so they won’t be able to move quickly or quietly, their hearing is also going to be impaired.”

“Why aren’t you going in with them?”

Sean closed his eyes briefly, wishing he’d played the opening of this scenario differently. Being able to do something would be much easier. “Because if I’m not here to talk to him, he’ll work out that something is going on and will kill the hostages. So as much as I’d like to sneak in there and kill that bastard myself, I’m going to have to wait this out the same as you.”

Viggo pulled Sean into a hug. “Orlando’s going to get out of this. You have to believe that. You’ve been training him and he’s got enhanced abilities; that should make him more than a match for any of MacQuillan’s goons.”

Sean didn’t answer but inside his head the words I hope so were going around and around.

Steve arrived a few minutes later and Sean explained, with the aid of Davie’s map what he had in mind. 

“When do you want me to act?”

“When MacQuillan is outside talking to me. I’ll stall him for as long as it’s safe.”

“Fine. I’ll take Murdo and Rory with me. They were both regulars with the Highland Regiment so they’ll be able to do the job.”

~~~~

On the dot of an hour the front door of the house opened and a man in an orange protective suit came out. The same electronically produced voice said, “Time’s up, Mr Bean.”

Taking a deep breath, so much was riding on how he handled this next conversation, Sean waited until Steve and his companions were on their way. Leaving the gatehouse, Sean walked slowly along the road that led to the Great House and stopped about twenty feet from MacQuillan.

Without any delay MacQuillan said, “Where is Dr Mortensen?”

It was impossible to read either MacQuillan’s expression or his tone through the suit but instinct told Sean that he had run out of time. Praying that Steve would be able to work quickly Sean said, “He’s getting his things together.”

“I can provide everything he might need.”

“He needs his research papers if he is going to be able to work on an antidote,” Sean said desperately.

“Very well, he has five minutes. But I will not warn you again.” Turning back to the door of the Great House, MacQuillan shouted, “Bring the hostages out here.”

Almost immediately Sean heard Orlando’s voice clearly and the sounds of a struggle. “Let me go you bloody wankers. You can’t expect her to go anywhere at the moment; she’s just had a baby. If you make her move she could haemorrhage.”

Two men in orange suits came through the doorway with Orlando struggling between them. He looked dishevelled, his sweater was gone and his t-shirt was torn. As Sean watched one of the guards jabbed Orlando in the ribs with the butt of a rifle and when he doubled over, casually backhanded him so that he stumbled and nearly fell. When he straightened up, his nose was bleeding and his arm was curled around his ribs protectively. Sean forced himself to remain calm and not react to the sight of Orlando being beaten but his nails bit into his palms where he clenched his fists so tightly.

A third man appeared with Maggie but appeared to be swaying as he walked and his rifle was pointing at the ground rather than at the hostages.

“Where are the women and the child?” MacQuillan snapped.

The third guard spoke. “I’m sorry, sir. The younger one really couldn’t move, so we left the others inside with her and the baby.”

Sean’s attention was diverted from MacQuillan when the guard with Maggie suddenly collapsed and lay on the ground twitching. Sean muttered a prayer when Orlando dropped to his knees beside the man and attempted to remove the protective suit.

“Leave him alone,” MacQuillan ordered.

“He’s sick, he needs help,” Orlando protested.

“He’s not,” MacQuillan retorted.

“I don’t think he’s suddenly decided he’s tired and is taking a nap,” Orlando snapped back.

Before Sean could warn him to keep his mouth shut one of the guards jabbed Orlando in the kidneys with his boot and he collapsed sideways onto the ground. It took all of Sean’s remaining self control not to react. He knew he had to keep his face impassive or MacQuillan would notice. The man was delusional and he would use everything at his disposal to keep Sean off balance.

Perhaps MacQuillan had always been that way but most likely the idea that he had nothing more than an ignominious death to look forward to, had finally sent him completely over the edge. 

“Look, why don’t you let the hostages go and we’ll try to help you.”

Even through the visor, Sean saw the glare MacQuillan aimed at him. “I don’t need your help. Give me Mortensen and the antidote and I’ll be on my way.”

The man who had collapsed was now still and Orlando climbed slowly and painfully to his feet, wiping his hands on his dirty jeans. “He’s in a coma. If the virus runs its usual course he’ll be like that for a few days and when he wakes he’ll be uncontrollable.”

The other two guards shuffled nervously when MacQuillan shouted at Sean, “Get a message to Mortensen, tell him to hurry up. He only has two minutes left.”

“I can’t get a message to him; there is no power for phones or radios.”

With a muttered curse, MacQuillan started fumbling with the fastening of his protective helmet. As soon as he removed it, Sean saw that he was sweating profusely. Whether that was because of the constricting suit or that he was sick himself Sean couldn’t say for certain. Either way it didn’t really matter.

“How have you and your men stayed uninfected for so long?” Sean asked, anxious to give Steve more time to act. If only MacQuillan would pass out quickly there was a chance it would all end peacefully.

“I’d built a shelter a long time ago, when we began researching into viruses. All the experts told me that it was almost impossible to keep such things contained so I planned for such an eventuality.” He wiped the sweat off his face with the back of his hand.

The guards behind Orlando were looking worse, swaying on their feet and with each moment that passed Sean prayed that MacQuillan would go down so that they could bring the situation to a peaceful conclusion.

There was no wind, which was unusual for Barra so Sean could hear MacQuillan’s laboured breathing easily. Then on the still air, from the behind the house, came the sound of a baby crying.

Knowing that MacQuillan would hear the sound clearly, realise immediately what it meant and retaliate instantly, Sean took off running, as fast as possible, towards him. His only chance was to take the madman out and fast.

A look of rage distorted MacQuillan’s features. Sean was barely ten feet away when MacQuillan pulled a pistol from somewhere in his suit, turned and fired.

His enhanced abilities weren’t going to be enough. Sean had barely covered half the distance separating him from MacQuillan when he saw Orlando throw himself in front of Maggie, shielding her from MacQuillan’s bullet. The pair of them went down in a heap with Orlando uppermost. 

Sean flew across the remaining distance and hit MacQuillan head on, fury possessing him as he lashed out viciously. There was no plan or technique to his attack, just blind rage. All he could hear were animalistic sounds of frenzy which he realised, with some part of his mind, were coming from him. 

It might have been minutes or hours later when he came back to himself. Reeling with exhaustion, he staggered and almost fell but Isabel reached out and grabbed his arm to support him. 

Attempting to shrug off her helping hand, Sean looked towards Orlando. He was lying where he had fallen, Viggo and several other people were kneeling around him but all Sean could see was the blood staining his t-shirt and darkening the grass around him.

Moving away from Isabel, he tried to reach Orlando but was on his knees before he’d taken two steps. Isabel crouched down in front of him once more. “Wait, Sean, you’re hurt.”

“What happened?” His mouth didn’t want to behave and move in the way he needed to sound out the words and his throat felt as though he’d been eating broken glass.

“When he shot Orlando you went crazy and attacked them. You were screaming and just waded into them. They didn’t stand a chance. It was almost all over by the time Steve reached you.”

“What?” His head felt fuzzy and he couldn’t think straight.

She touched his arm and spoke slowly, as though to a child, “You killed all of them and were wounded. One of them shot you.”

“I’m okay. I need to get to Orli.” He wasn’t feeling any pain so he must be fine. What was she saying?

“They’re doing all they can for him, Sean. Wait for a minute, let me bind your arm to try to stop the bleeding then you can go to him.”

Sean tried to nod but it was hard because his head felt as though it weighed a ton. 

He ignored Isabel wrapping a bandage around his arm and instead focused on Orlando as he was moved carefully onto a door, which had been pressed into service as a stretcher, and was carried by six men into the Great House.

Isabel must have read his intent because instead of trying to argue with him she just tucked the end of the bandage into the folds around his arm and then helped him to his feet. With her supporting him more than he really wanted to admit, he shuffled slowly into the house.

By the time they reached the kitchen, which was acting as a make shift treatment room, Orlando had been transferred to the large, sheet covered kitchen table. While Viggo scrubbed his hands at the kitchen sink, Maggie and Steve began to cut off Orlando’s clothes, the blood soaked remnants landing on the floor with dull squelches. His head spinning even more, Sean made it to the head of the table where he could finally get a close up view of his lover’s injuries. 

Orlando had been hit with a single round leaving a smallish entry wound and what would be a much larger exit wound. The bullet had taken him below the ribs on the left side. Sean prayed it had avoided his intestines or stomach. That sort of damage would be impossible to fix, even for Orlando himself, in these conditions.

When Viggo made an incision Sean couldn’t watch any longer, instead he concentrated on Orlando’s pale face, willing him to survive.


	13. Day 235: 2 January 2004

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It doesn't look good for Orlando...

Sean woke feeling as though he had gone ten rounds with the world heavyweight champion. His whole body ached. A bandage covered his left upper arm and his head hurt. All at once he had a flash of recall and saw Orlando lying still and bloody on the ground. Throwing aside the blanket over him, he rolled off the sofa he was lying on. Before he could get to the door it opened and Viggo came into the room.

“I heard you moving about so I thought I ought to come in.”

“You drugged me you bastard! “

“I know. You were out on your feet by the time I finished the surgery. I had to sew up your arm and you needed to rest so that you could be of some help to Orlando when he wakes up.”

“Where is he? How is he?”

“He’s still alive, Sean, though I have no idea how.”

“Take me to him.” It wasn’t a request.

Viggo led him out of the living room and along a short hallway. At the far end, he pushed open another door. Gesturing for Sean to go first Viggo followed him into the downstairs bedroom. At once Sean’s nostrils were assailed with the smell of blood and sickness. There was a small double bed in the room and several people including Steve and Isabel were standing around it. Ignoring the looks of pity directed at him, Sean headed over to the bed and slumped down into a chair that had been placed beside the headboard.

Taking a deep breath to settle his nerves, he let himself look at his injured lover. Orlando was pale, his once healthy skin tone now ashen and almost grey. Blood stained gauze covered the gunshot wound on his chest. 

Sean looked around until he could see Viggo. “How bad?”

Viggo turned to the others in the room, “Can you give us a minute alone?”

Once they had filed out Viggo took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Sean, there’s nothing else I can do for him. The bullet went through but it caused a lot of damage. It would probably have killed anyone else instantly. I did what I could to repair it but I’m not a surgeon. I’m pretty sure the bullet nicked his spine on the way out. Even if the internal injuries don’t kill him I’m not sure that he’s ever going to walk again.”

Unbidden, Sean’s hand went to Orlando’s forehead, resting against his clammy skin.

“He’s going to live. He has to.”

“Sean, if we manage to stop the wounds from becoming infected and he does somehow survive there’s every chance he’s going to be a cripple. How is he going to cope in the world we have now?”

Sean ignored the question. Until there was no other choice he would believe that Orlando would live and would recover fully. “Has he been conscious at all?”

“For a few minutes after surgery but he was in terrible pain so I put him out again.”

Not wanting to think about Orlando suffering, he was grateful to Viggo. “Okay, thanks.” 

“There’s a problem, Sean.” 

Viggo looked very uncomfortable and Sean felt an icy hand clench around his chest. “What?”

“I’m running out of morphine.”

“What about the supplies I bought over with me and those Orlando got from Fort William?”

“Nearly gone; I need to use a higher dose on him. If I give him a normal amount it has no effect. I’ve no idea if it’s something to do with his new metabolism. All I know is that I don’t have enough to keep him pain free for more than a few days and that will take all our supply so if anyone else needs it...” Viggo’s words tailed off, he didn’t need to say more, Sean understood.

“We don’t have time to get more from the mainland?”

“Not unless you can fly the plane out at Traigh Mhor.” It wasn’t supposed to be a light-hearted comment, Sean knew that. It was a plea for the impossible.

“No, I can’t.” Sean sighed and settled himself at Orlando’s bedside and took his hand in his own. He’d wait here until his lover woke because Sean wanted to say how sorry he was that Orlando was suffering and then explain how much he loved him and needed him to stay.


	14. Day 237: 4 January 2004

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sean is faced with an impossible decision

Sean jerked awake when the door to the room opened. It took a few moments for him to work out where he was but the feeling of a limp, chilled hand in his brought him back to the here and now with painful clarity. 

Viggo put his head around the door. Ignoring him, Sean turned to Orlando but it was obvious, even with a cursory glance that his condition hadn’t changed for the better over the past two days. His breathing was rough and laboured and blood still seeped slowly through the padding on his chest.

Freeing himself from Orlando’s loose hand clasp, Sean buried his face in his hands, allowing himself a few moments of despair. Viggo had been saying for more than a day that Orlando wasn’t going to pull through and, even though he hadn’t explicitly voiced the words, had hinted that he thought it would be better if he didn’t. 

In the brief moments Orlando had been conscious, they had tried to find out if he had any sensation in his lower body but without any fancy equipment they had had to resort to pressing needles against his skin and asking if he could feel them. Of course he’d answered in the negative; with the amount of pain he was in whenever he woke, Sean wouldn’t have expected him to feel anything else.

It was destroying Sean to see him suffering so much and he had, more than once, thought back to his objectivity when Orlando had been faced with the prospect of euthanizing his father. Their supply of morphine was nearly exhausted and, what he would do when it ran out, Sean didn’t know. He couldn’t bear to think about the agony Orlando would experience if that happened.

Viggo came closer to the bed and checked the bag of fluid they were using to keep Orlando hydrated. “Why don’t you go and freshen up and get some proper rest, Sean? I’ve left you a kettle of hot water in the kitchen. I’ll stay with him while you’re gone.”

Sean rubbed his hand over his face and the stubble there rasped again his hand. He was so tired and felt so helpless. “Okay. I’ll wash but I’ll come back here to rest. I’ll only be away for a few minutes.”

Almost in a daze Sean plodded along to the kitchen, picked up the kettle and then went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Pouring the water into the sink, he took off his sweater and rolled up his shirt sleeves. Dipping his hands into the water in the sink he splashed it over his face. Whether the water on his face was the final impetus he needed to let down the floodgates he wasn’t sure but soon he was doubled over the sink, sobbing uncontrollably. 

Finally, once the storm of emotion had abated, Sean slumped on the floor of the bathroom, leaning against the door for support. He felt exhausted but at the same time perfectly calm. He’d confronted his worst fears and had resolved what he needed to do. He loved Orlando too much to allow him to suffer needlessly.

Standing, Sean washed his face, took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders. He only had to get through the next few hours and after that nothing mattered. Any plans he might once have had for the future would be meaningless. 

Before he could open the door there was the sound of someone running along the hallway. He jumped when Viggo banged on the door. 

“Sean! Sean! You’ve got to come now. It’s Orlando!”

The moment Sean opened the door, Viggo turned and rushed away. Half hoping that the decision had been taken away from him Sean headed slowly back to the sickroom. When he got there, Viggo was standing beside the bed, but, instead of the lifeless body that Sean had been expecting, Orlando was awake.

Crouching down slowly, Sean knelt beside the bed at his lover’s eye level sensing Viggo moving away to give them the illusion of privacy. Orlando was still drugged so it took him some time to focus on Sean but when he did, a faint smile creased his mouth.

“Hey,” Sean said, as he pushed the stiff, sweaty hair off Orlando’s face.

Another smile was all the reaction he got but it meant the world to Sean.

Taking some time to gather his strength Orlando gasped, “My legs? Can’t move them.” 

“Viggo says the bullet clipped your spine.”

Orlando blinked slowly and then whispered, “What else?”

Sean grasped Orlando’s hand, grateful to feel a faint response when he squeezed in return. “The bullet went through but it did a lot of damage and you lost a lot of blood.”

“I’m dying.” It wasn’t a question.

Sean wanted to lie, to claim that Orlando was mistaken but he knew it would be the wrong thing to do so he nodded, and with tears running down his cheeks said, “We’ve done all we can but…” 

Orlando closed his eyes and there was nothing more for several seconds except a hitch in his breathing as though the pain had become more than he could stand. 

When Orlando finally opened his eyes again, he looked at Sean. “Hurts...”

Sean knew how much that admission had cost him. “I know. I’m sorry. Viggo has been using morphine to knock you out.”

“How much left?”

“Not enough.”

“Help me?” Those two words carried so much meaning. 

Sean felt more tears prickle at the corner of his eyes and then spill down his cheeks but he nodded. “Yes.” He mouthed the word more than said it but Orlando had seen him because his face was transformed by a smile.

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”

“Know.” The word was followed by a grimace and an involuntary moan of pain such that Sean knew he couldn’t wait any longer, despite wanting to spend as many minutes with his lover as possible.

Leaning forward Sean placed a single kiss against Orlando’s mouth. Pulling back he said, “Vig?”

“Here, Sean. It’s all we have left but I’m sure it’s enough.” Viggo handed him a syringe three-quarters full of clear fluid. With a catch in his voice Viggo said, “Via the IV would be best. I’ll be outside if you need me.”

Sean waited until Viggo had left the room then he shifted so that he could reach the plastic tube that fed the saline solution into the catheter in Orlando’s arm. He faltered when it came to pushing the needle of the syringe through the plastic of the tube and looked over to Orlando who blinked slowly and gave the barest of nods. 

Swallowing around a huge lump in his throat, Sean pushed the plunger on the syringe home. With a sob, he slumped back down beside the bed and buried his face in blankets at Orlando’s side. He felt one of his lover’s hands rest momentarily on his head and then slip slowly to one side. Lifting his head and berating himself for his lack of strength, Sean took Orlando’s hand and held onto it as his breathing grew fainter and his features relaxed.

~~~~

When Viggo came back into the room some time later, Sean’s legs had gone to sleep but he was still kneeling on the floor and clutching Orlando’s hand.

“Is it over?”

Sean shook his head, “No. He’s still breathing.”

“What? There was enough morphine there to fell an ox.”

Sean lifted Orlando’s hand and pressed it against his cheek where it was wet by the tears that covered his cheeks. Jesus, he hadn’t cried in years but that had surely changed today.

“We should do something.”

Sean felt his anger rise so putting Orlando’s hand down carefully on the blanket; he stood his fists clenched at his sides. “What the fuck do you want me to do? Smother him with a pillow?”

He was pleased to see the shocked expression on Viggo’s face at his harsh words but what the fuck did he expect? Giving that injection had torn his heart to pieces. Hadn’t he done enough?

“But what if – ”

“Leave it, Vig. He’s not in any pain now, so just piss off. If, and only if, he comes around and is still hurting, then I’ll do whatever it takes. But until then, I’m doing nothing more.”


	15. Day 239:	 6 January 2004

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sean's hoping for a miracle

Sean stood to one side as Viggo changed the IV bag that still fed fluids into Orlando’s arm and then made a thorough examination of his vital signs. His lover had been in a coma like state for almost two days now even though the morphine Sean had given him had to have worn off. 

Thankfully, he was peaceful and amazingly, even had some colour in his cheeks which wasn’t due to running a temperature. Since Orlando had been shot Sean had tried to do everything for him, bathing him, cleaning him up when he soiled himself and changing the bandages on his back and chest. He’d dozed off and on in the chair beside Orlando’s bed for nearly a week but knew he wouldn’t be able to keep going for much longer without some proper sleep. He could have asked Viggo to take a turn but for some reason he felt uneasy about leaving Orlando with him while he was defenceless. 

It would have been for the best of reasons, with Sean’s welfare at heart, but Sean didn’t trust Viggo not to take matters into his own hands. After Isabel had explained about the berserk rage that has transformed him when Orlando was shot, Sean was worried about losing control like that again. If Viggo did take steps to end Orlando's life Sean was convinced the rage would return. 

He had no real memory of what he’d done during those minutes and had only discovered after the event that he had killed three men with his bare hands. Admittedly, in the grand scale of things, they weren’t deaths anyone would regret and it was some form of payment for the havoc that MacQuillan and his kind had wrought around the world. Sean didn’t have the right to assume the role of judge, juror and executioner but in the circumstances it was something he was sure he could learn to live with. 

“Sean…”

“What?” Sean asked suspiciously, hoping against hope that Viggo didn’t want to have another difficult conversation with him.

“As amazing as it sounds I think he looks better and his vital signs are stronger. Have you changed the dressings today?”

“No, I was going to do it now.”

“Let me help. I want to take a look at the wounds because if I hadn't known how seriously hurt he was I would say he is recovering.”

“What?” Sean knew he was exhausted but he couldn’t fathom what Viggo was telling him. He’d spent the past few days waiting for Orlando to die and now Viggo was saying that he was getting better? How was that possible?

Trying desperately to keep any false hopes at bay Sean watched as Viggo gently pulled at the adhesive tape holding the gauze in place on Orlando’s chest. When the covering was removed, Sean couldn’t believe his eyes. The wound, which up until yesterday had been bloody and raw, had begun to scab over. The flesh around the edges was still red and angry looking but it was definitely healing. More importantly, there was no sign of infection.

Sean glanced over at Viggo and his face mirrored the shock that Sean was feeling.

“Let’s take a look at his back,” Viggo murmured.

“Okay.”

Carefully and not daring to admit any hope, Sean gripped onto Orlando’s shoulder and rolled him until his back was off the bed. He held his breath while Viggo repeated the tape and gauze removal but eventually he could wait no longer to find out.

“How is it?”

“I have no idea how or why but it’s healing too. Keep him there for a minute while I change the dressing.”

Swiftly Viggo changed the pad and the nodded for Sean to let him down, and then he finished by replacing the gauze that had covered Orlando’s chest.

“You think it’s his changed physiology that is helping? The doctors told me I would never walk properly again but I just woke up one day and I was as good as new, ” Sean suggested, trying desperately to make sense of what was happening. He felt punch drunk, the emotional lows and highs of the past days leaving him exhausted.

Viggo shrugged. “I’ve honestly no idea. I’d guess probably because the wound in your arm has healed quickly. The only real way to test the theory would be to shoot you or Steve and see what happens and I’d rather not do that if you don’t mind.”

Sean allowed himself a half smile and then an almost hysterical laugh, the first in what seemed like months but was only days. “I wasn’t planning on signing up to be a guinea pig, don’t worry.”

Viggo looked thoughtful. “It’s odd though that he only really started healing when we gave him the huge dose of morphine and dropped him into the coma.”

“You think his body needed that respite to be able to fix itself?”

“I have no fucking idea but it’s as good a theory as anything else about this whole shitty mess.”

Sean wasn’t sure if he wanted to ask the next question but now that it seemed that Orlando might recover it was a subject they needed to broach. “What about his back? He couldn’t move his legs before I gave him the morphine. Do you think his spine might be okay when he wakes up?”

“How should I know? Everything that has happened here is way out of my sphere of expertise. I have no idea why he is still alive. I can’t guarantee if he will wake up any time soon and I certainly can’t predict if the damage to his spine will be fixed when he does.”

Sean felt his hopes rise, Viggo had said when Orlando woke, not if, and that was a huge turn around in his attitude. There was still the worry about his mobility but right now Sean wasn’t even going to think about it. Two days ago, he’d given Orlando enough morphine to kill him but despite that he was still breathing and all his vital signs were looking better. Right now, that was enough of a miracle for Sean.


	16. Day 241: 8 January 2004

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Orlando's on the mend...

Sean walked back towards the room where Orlando had been for the past seven days. For the first time in a week he felt almost human. As Orlando’s apparent recovery had continued over the last twenty four hours Sean had finally, with many feelings of guilt, given in and allowed himself a night’s sleep in a proper bed. 

All they needed now was for Orlando to finally regain consciousness and Sean would begin to believe that it was going to be all right. Sean had tried to suggest moving Orlando back to their home when he seemed to be getting better but Maggie had threatened to carve him into small pieces with her father’s sgian-dubh if he tried to move him. In the face of her fierce opposition Sean had accepted he was beaten and given in graciously.

When he pushed open the bedroom door, Maggie was sitting in the comfortable chair beside the bed some knitting resting in her lap.

“Everything all right, Maggie?”

“Aye, Sean, it’s been a quiet night. The laddie’s been fine and if anything I think he’s sleeping lighter.”

“Really?”

“Aye. I can’t tell you how pleased I am that he seems to be getting better. He’s a fine man; if it hadn’t been for him Catriona would have lost the bairn and maybe perished herself. He deserves to be well again.”

Completely touched by her heartfelt sentiments, Sean felt a lump appear in his throat. He’d always known that Orlando had made friends amongst the islanders easily but to hear Maggie’s words made him feel incredibly happy. “Thanks, Maggie, I appreciate it.”

She patted him on the arm as though he was small child and not someone who towered over her by a good eight inches. “You’re a good man too, Sean, you two deserve each other and some happiness.”

Curious, Sean asked, “I’ve wanted to ask for a while if any of the islanders minded that we were together openly. I'd heard that the inhabitants of Barra had a strong affiliation to the Catholic Church.”

She gave him a roguish smile that made her appear much younger. “Och, Sean, I’m old enough to have discovered that no matter where you find it, if it is love then you have to grab it with both hands and not let go.”

“Thanks, Maggie, it means a lot to me that we've been made so welcome.”

“You’re welcome, laddie. Now spend some time with your man. I’m sure he’s going to wake today, you mark my words.”

Picking up the book he’d left behind when he staggered off to get some sleep, Sean made himself comfortable. Turning the pages until he found his place, Sean settled down and began to read.

Sean wasn’t sure what made him look up from his book a couple of hours later but he did and couldn’t help the way his heart leapt when at last he saw a familiar pair of brown eyes looking in his direction. Dropping the book in his haste, he fell to his knees beside the bed and took Orlando’s hand gently in his. “You don’t know how glad I am to finally see you awake.”

“No more than me,” Orlando managed to croak out.

“Hang on a second and I’ll get you some water.”

Shaking with relief, Sean offered him water from a glass with a straw. Orlando took a couple of sips before sinking back into the pillows.

“Better?”

“Yes.” Orlando’s voice was scratchy and faint from lack of use.

“How’re you feeling? Are you in pain?”

The look Orlando gave him told Sean it was a stupid question he had no intention of answering. Instead he said, “What happened?”

“You don’t remember?”

Orlando shook his head. 

Not sure if he should tell him about the possible damage to his back Sean fudged a bit. He rationalised the omission by telling himself that the chances were good Orlando would make a full recovery considering how far he'd come already. If his back injury was permanent, they'd deal with it when they had to. Realising that he'd been silent for too long Sean said hurriedly, “MacQuillan heard young Daniel crying when we were sneaking them out of the house and started shooting. You jumped in front of Maggie to protect her and took a bullet.”

“Oh.”

“I'm so sorry I couldn’t get to you in time. I tried but was too slow…”

Orlando weakly gestured him into silence. “I remember now. I was hurt badly, wasn’t I?”

Sean nodded. “Yeah you were. I thought I was going to lose you.”

Orlando opened his mouth to reply and no sound emerged so Sean offered more water. “I’m sorry,” he finally managed.

“It wasn’t your fault, love. MacQuillan was certifiable. I won’t let you take the blame for his actions. But next time don’t jump in front of a bullet.”

“But it was Maggie...” Orlando gave him a faint smile but didn't say anything more, before closing his eyes and dozing off again.

In a much happier frame of mind, Sean settled himself back into the chair and picked up his book. No matter how long it took, Orlando was now on the mend and that was the main thing.


	17. Day 248: 15 January 2004

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Orlando's a terrible patient!

Sean walked out of the room, ignoring the faint call that followed him. He barely stopped himself from slamming the door behind him. Frustrated beyond belief, he stomped into the kitchen. Maggie was standing at the counter, her arms and hands covered in flour. She turned as he came into the room and nodded at him. “So the laddie is getting a might tetchy, is he?”

Sean looked at her in amazement. “Tetchy? You call that tetchy? If he wasn’t still so sick I’d murder him myself.” He found his voice getting louder and made a conscious effort to control it and himself.

Maggie waved him over to where she was kneading some dough. “Now wash your hands.”

“Why?”

“Don’t ask daft questions, Sean, you don’t want to pick an argument with me too, do you?”

Sean shook his head. “I’m sorry, Maggie.”

“Go on, wash your hands and then come over here.”

Wiping his hands on a towel, Sean came and stood next to Maggie. The way her hands were moving through the dough was mesmerising, the constant pressing and stretching looked incredibly relaxing. 

Giving him some flour to rub over his hands, Maggie pointed at the lump of dough. “Go on start kneading it. It doesn’t matter how rough you are so you can work out some of that temper.”

Sean wanted to tell her to mind her own business but he owed Maggie more than that. They’d been staying in her home for more than two weeks already and it was going to take longer for Orlando to be fit enough to move. After all, it had only been three days ago that Orlando had regained the feeling in his legs and been able to move them on his own. When Orlando had asked if he could go home Viggo had voiced his concern that, while Orlando was healing, it might take longer than a few days until the damage had been fully repaired.

With a sigh Sean pushed his hands into the dough. At first the sensation of the slightly sticky mixture between his fingers was unpleasant but as he got used to it and began to push and pull the dough more strongly, he became absorbed in the movements and quickly lost track of time.

He jumped when Maggie reached over and put a mug of tea beside him.

“I think that’ll do now, Sean, put it in the bowl and cover it with the tea towel. We need to let it rest for a while. Clean your hands and bring your tea over so we can sit by the fire for a minute or two.” 

Sean did as he was told because, from the thread of steel in her voice, Maggie wasn’t making a suggestion. He settled himself in an armchair and she took one facing him.

“So, is the laddie being difficult?”

“You don’t know the half of it. I’m not sure I can cope with his whining about how fed up he is that he can’t do anything for too much longer. I can understand how he feels but it hasn’t been easy for me either!” 

The words tumbled out of Sean’s mouth quickly but there was little heat behind them now, just a feeling of sadness. He realised that Maggie’s ploy with the bread making had worked far better than he had expected.

“I ken that. You’ve spent your every waking hour beside him for more than a fortnight; it’s not surprising you’re running out of patience. Why don’t you take a few days away from here? Go back home and take some time for yourself. I’ll keep an eye on him.”

“But...” Sean was completely thrown by the suggestion; the idea of leaving Orlando, if only for a couple of days, was inconceivable. How could she even suggest it? He looked at the older woman to make sure she was serious.

She folded her hands in her lap. “Whisht, he’ll be fine. It’ll be like having one of the boys back home again.”

“I can’t leave him.”

“Why not?” Maggie turned her astute gaze on him and Sean found himself squirming in his seat.

“Because he needs me here.”

“Nonsense. Anyone can feed him or clean him up. If you take a break you won’t have to suffer his moaning.”

“But I have to be here…”

She reached over and grasped his hand. “I understand but tell me why you do. How would you explain this to an outsider, someone who knew nothing of your relationship.”

Concentrating on his hand and Maggie’s curled around it, Sean began to talk.

“We met about six months ago by chance and have barely been apart in all that time. At first I was attracted by his looks.” Sean shrugged, it was shallow but then again it was what had happened. “But then, when he had to make some very hard decisions, I came to admire him for his courage, his desire to help others and for his compassion. Despite everything he’s gone through, he’s never lost that.”

Keeping his eyes down, Sean tried to speak from the heart. “The longer we were together, the more my love for him grew, until I realised I didn’t know anymore where I ended and he began. We were one entity and part of each other’s life forever. I’ve never felt like that about anyone else before, even Viggo. So when I could have lost him for good it scared me witless. I should have been able to stop MacQuillan before he fired. I should have been able to protect him…”

“Do you feel guilty for not being able to do that? Surely I should feel like that? It was me the laddie was protecting when he was shot.”

“Guilty? Of course I do. He’s suffered so much in the past two weeks and we’re still not sure if he’s going to be able to walk again. Moving his legs is fine but he hasn’t even tried to stand yet.”

“If he can’t walk will you still want him?”

Sean’s head jerked upwards in shock. How could she think that about him? He grew angry again. “How dare you suggest that? I love him and will spend the rest of my life with him, whether he is able to walk or not!”

“Och, Sean, that much has been obvious to anyone who has seen you in the past two weeks. So?”

Sean sighed. “So you’re saying I need to get my head out of my arse and cut him some slack?”

“No I’m not. Neither am I excusing his bad behaviour. He’s been through a lot and has the wounds to show for it. What aren’t visible are the scars you have. Orlando doesn’t see just how traumatic these events have been for you.”

“But I’m fine, I was barely scratched,” Sean protested, even though he knew Maggie was right.

“Come on, Sean, you’ve served in the army and know all about post-traumatic stress. Give yourself some credit for what you’ve coped with and then you both need to talk about how you are feeling. You both need to listen to the answers as well!”

Concentrating on the mug in his hand Sean thought about what Maggie had said. Of course she was right and perhaps the reason she could see clearly what they needed to do was because she had some distance. Right now he was too close to the situation and couldn’t get the vision of Orlando hitting the ground, his t-shirt soaked in blood out of his mind. He’d had woken, weak and shaking, from more than one nightmare where Orlando had been dead when Sean finally reached him, his eyes open and starring sightlessly into the winter sky.

When he looked up to thank her he realised that Maggie had somehow slipped away and that it was already dark outside. Taking the mug over to the sink he rinsed it out and left it to drain on the side. Then, picking up one of the oil lanterns that had become the only means of light on the island, he headed back to Orlando’s room.

He pushed open the bedroom door as quietly as he could and went inside. From the flickering light he could see that his lover was asleep again, a state in which he still spent a great deal of time.

Putting the lantern down he moved slowly around the room, tidying the detritus that had built up over the time that Orlando had been confined to the bed.

He was standing looking out of the window when there was movement from the bed. 

“Sean?” Orlando’s voice was very soft and it was only because he was still that Sean heard him.

“Yeah, I’m here.”

He moved over and sat on the chair that was situated beside the head of the bed, the seat cushion permanently shaped to fit his arse. Folding his arms he waited to see what Orlando would say.

Orlando reached out and grabbed one of his hands. “I’m sorry for being a wanker. I’m frustrated but I shouldn’t take it out on you.”

“I’m sorry too that I couldn’t stop him shooting you. I spent hours while you were unconscious trying to work out what I could have done differently.”

“There wasn’t anything, you know that. He was insane and even if you had done nothing, he would still have tried to kill the hostages; maybe not as soon but eventually. Can you imagine what our chances of survival would have been if he’d got us off the island and back to his headquarters?”

“Yes I can. But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m still having nightmares about you being shot, I keep seeing you fall and in my dreams you don’t survive.”

“Well I’m still here.”

“Going on alone isn’t something I would be able to do.”

“I know that and I can’t bear the thought that I might lose you either.” Orlando pulled on Sean’s hand until he was close enough to sit down on the edge of the bed. “Will you spend the night here with me?”

“But, Orli, you’re not up to anything like that yet.”

“Oh God, I know that. How I know that. But I want to sleep in your arms. I’ve missed that so much in the last couple of weeks.”

“Me too.” Sean smiled. “And I don’t think Maggie will mind.”

“What makes you say that?”

Sean headed around to the other side of the bed before kicking off his boots and taking off everything except his t-shirt and underwear. “We were speaking a while back and she said if you find love, you should grab it with both hands and not let go.”

He was shivering a little when he climbed under the blankets, moving gingerly until he was close enough for Orlando to snuggle up to him with his back close against Sean’s chest.

“Did she?”

“Yes.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah it is.”

They lay there without speaking for several minutes until Orlando said, “Sean?”

“What?”

“Do you think I’ll be well enough to go home soon? I’ve already had to spend my birthday here.”

Sean shrugged; making sure the movement was slight to avoid disturbing Orlando. “I don’t know, love, it depends how quickly you get better.”

“I’d like to be at home. Maybe I can be there by the end of the month or Valentine’s Day.” Orlando sighed contentedly and snuggled closer. 

Sean rubbed his face against Orlando’s hair and felt his throat tighten with emotion. With all the worry of Orlando being so ill, he hadn’t realised how much he’d missed the physical closeness they had always shared. 

“Sean?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For giving me the morphine when you did. I know how difficult it must have been and I will never forget that.”

Sean felt tears prick his eyes and tried to keep his voice sounding normal. “I couldn’t do anything else. I love you and couldn’t bear to see you suffer like that.”

“Even though I’ve been acting like a child you have to know that I love you too.”

“I do, I do. Now go to sleep.”

“Yes, Sean.”

It only took moments before Orlando’s breathing deepened and Sean knew he was asleep. After several minutes of counting his blessings that he could still hold Orlando like this, Sean followed.


	18. Day 396: 11 June 2004

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six months on and it's time to say goodbye

Sean walked into the small graveyard on the outskirts of Castlebay and made his way over to a grass covered mound which had a wooden cross standing at its head. The sun was shining and the grass covering the newest graves was thick and lush. For a change there was no wind and he could hear the sound of bees buzzing around the few stunted shrubs that ringed the graveyard.

Feeling a little self-conscious he placed a small bunch of wild flowers on the mound, just in front of the cross, and then stood with his head bowed and his eyes closed. He couldn’t pray; the events of the past year had driven away any belief he may have had in a higher power. If the plague and its aftermath were some deity’s idea of retribution on the world’s population, instead of the scheming of a power-mad megalomaniac, then Sean didn’t want anything to do with a God who would kill so many innocents.

Instead he kept his eyes closed and let his mind wander. He was here to commemorate a special day, the anniversary of the day he met Orlando. Of course there was a slight chance he was out by a day or two. Since the plague, as it was generally referred to now, the only way of keeping track of the passing of time had been through the act of crossing off days on a calendar. There had been some talk of setting up some marker stones which would pinpoint the principal dates in the calendar according to the sun’s position. Sean wasn’t really sure if the idea had merit or not. There were no official documents that needed renewing any longer, farmers could tell by the weather and the length of day when they needed to plough or sow crops. Cattle and sheep would give birth when they were ready and not on a prearranged date. In some ways he rather liked not being tied down. Not knowing the exact date was only a problem when you had things to commemorate or remember.

When this whole thing had started even he hadn’t conceived the full extent to which the lives of the survivors would need to change. The islanders were rapidly slipping back into a medieval lifestyle but fortunately without the superstitions that dogged that era. People with valuable skills were trying to pass on their knowledge to the young but it was a time consuming and sketchy process when all hands were needed to produce the food and other things the community needed to survive.

He lifted his head and looked at the date on the wooden cross that stood at the head of the mound. The twenty-third of January two thousand and four: only ten days after Orlando’s twenty-seventh birthday. 

Thinking back to that time he couldn’t suppress a shudder. Maybe MacQuillan and his men had brought the strange new flu bug with them, Sean didn’t know and it didn’t really matter. He would always recall the following weeks with loathing as one after another Orlando, Maggie, Viggo and a large number of the islanders had fallen ill.

Despite everything they could do, the flu bug had proved fatal for many, particularly the old, the young and the sick. Maggie had been one of the first of those infected to pass away; worn out from the worry of trying to protect the islanders. She had quickly been followed by the baby Orlando had delivered on the morning MacQuillan arrived. The poor mite had been baptised and buried on the same day.

Sean, Steve, Isabel and baby Alexander hadn’t been troubled by anything more than mild colds but in his already weakened condition Orlando had had no resistance at all.

Viggo had been powerless to do anything, the flu strain acting too quickly and virulently to give him any chance of finding a remedy without any modern technological assistance. Viggo had been sick himself but, being fit, had shrugged off the ill effects within a couple of weeks. Many had not been so lucky. 

Any objections Viggo had to moving the island’s population to the mainland had dissolved with the death of MacQuillan. The swathe of fatalities from the flu epidemic had cut through any rejection of Sean’s argument for moving somewhere where they had the space and resources to increase the size and viability of the community. With those hurdles removed and Viggo’s backing, the plans to relocate had forged ahead quickly. Some islanders had been reluctant to move but between Viggo, Isabel and young Davie – now the head of the clan, despite his age – they had got everyone behind the project. Their target date to abandon Barra had been set for September of the current year, just after the harvest and Sean had thrown himself into the preparations, working until he was exhausted most days.

The scheme for using the Hercules plane left up at Traigh Mhor, to scout their new home, had come to nothing. Neither of the pilots had survived and the plane itself had been swamped by unusually high Spring tides. They had managed to salvage some of the contents but the rest had been abandoned. 

In March, Sean and Steve and a few of the men had travelled back to Oban by yacht. They had scavenged for any food supplies in the town and collected the two largest ferries, bringing them back and mooring them in the harbour, close to Kisimul Castle. Fortunately the sea had been calm for most of the crossing and they had accomplished their objectives in only a few days. Work had been going on ever since, to re-fit them to take the islanders, all their possessions and their livestock on their journey back to the mainland.

In early May, Sean had made a trip to Poolewe to check out some possible locations near to the town. Thanks to the Gulf Stream, the area experienced mild temperatures and little snow in the winter with plenty of rain and warm summers to encourage plant growth. Steve had told him about Inverewe Gardens, a few miles north of Poolewe, where tropical plant species grew happily. 

The area had been deserted so, after much discussion, they had decided to attempt to establish a colony there. Sean hoped it would be warm enough for them to grow some citrus fruit as well as more cereal crops. One of the things Orlando had instilled in him was the absolute necessity for the islanders to have a varied diet. 

All they were hoping for now was fine weather for the next few months to maximise the crop yield and to let them start harvesting in good time. The next winter was going to be tough and Sean was already thinking of ways he could find food for over three hundred people. He remembered what Orlando had told him about the feral dogs he had seen in Fort William; maybe they would provide rations at need. Of course if they could visit a larger town or city, they might well be able to find caches of dried or tinned foods that would help eke out their meagre supplies but they had to face the possibility that there were other groups of survivors – all of whom would have the enhanced abilities – who might well be competing with them.

Sean was lost in concentration, trying to calculate the quantity of rice needed to feed three hundred people when a pair of arms curled around his waist. 

“What are you doing here?”

Sean leaned back into the strong embrace. “I’m saying goodbye to the ones we’re leaving behind.”

“We’re not leaving for at least three months. There will be plenty of time.”

“The last three months have gone so quickly I know the next three will disappear because there is so much we have to do.”

“Yes, but you can’t do it all yourself or you’ll be the one who is ill. Let us help, you know we all want to but are frightened of stepping on your toes.”

“I worked hard to try to forget,” Sean found himself blinking back tears at the memory of the first months of the year. It had been the worst time of his life.

“I know, love, but you can take things a bit easier now. Don’t forget we’ll need you and your expertise when we get to Poolewe.”

“You’re right. But it’s so difficult to let go.”

“I understand; it’s what makes you the man you are. Maggie is staying here, on her beloved Barra, with her people. Can you imagine the never ending ceilidh they will be having to celebrate? Now, let’s go back to the house, I’m sure I can come up with a way to distract you and help you relax,” his lover whispered in his ear.

With a sigh, Sean turned and gathered the other man into his arms, luxuriating in the strength he found there. Surely just for today, it would be okay to let go and take some time for himself?


	19. Day 508: 1 October 2004

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The start of a new beginning

The sky was beginning to lighten when Sean walked up the gangway, to find Viggo and Isabel standing waiting for him by the ladder leading to the bridge. Viggo was holding baby Alexander, who seemed to be watching all the activity going on around with interest.

“Well this is it,” Viggo said.

Sean nodded nervously. He was desperately tired having been working all night to get everything ready. Somehow, earlier this year, he had been elected the unofficial leader of the community until Davie MacNeil came of age. Moving nearly three hundred people with all their possessions was not something he had taken responsibility for lightly; even though he knew, in his heart it was the right thing to do, it was still a massive undertaking. “It’s a fresh start for all of us.” 

Climbing the ladder onto the bridge of the ferry, Lord of the Isles, Sean had a clear view of the Hebrides, the ship which was going to carry most of the islander’s possessions and livestock. Its vehicle ramp was full of sheep, most of who didn’t seem at all happy about venturing onto the metal deck that was throbbing in time with the engine. 

By the time order had been restored and the ramp had been raised, the sun was beginning to rise and the sky in the east was a riot of reds and oranges. 

All set? Everyone and everything loaded? Steve signalled over to Jamie Galbraith who was standing on the bridge of the Hebrides.

Jamie’s gestured response that all was well came back immediately. 

Orlando, now fully recovered, rushed up the ladder to join him on the bridge and Sean asked, “All set? Everyone settled down below?”

“It’s noisy and chaotic but I’m sure things will calm down in a while when the kids get bored with rushing around.”

Steve looked over at Sean. “Permission to cast off?”

Sean nodded. “Let’s get going.”

Leaning over the side, Steve waved at the two youngsters who were waiting to cast off the remaining lines keeping the ferry tethered. Releasing the ropes, they quickly dropped them and jumped on board.

Finally, Sean looked around the bridge and seeing everything was under control said to Orlando, “So what do you want to do for now. It’s going to be at least twelve hours until we reach Poolewe.”

Orlando grinned back at him and looked at the people milling about on the lower deck. “Well I don’t think there’ll be enough privacy for what I’d really like to do with you.”

Sean pulled Orlando into his arms and whispered in his ear. “You’re insatiable, you know that?”

“Yeah, but it’s only for you, Sean.”

Sean yawned widely and stretched. “I’d have to admit that I’m knackered and wouldn’t do myself any justice at the moment.”

“It’s okay; I can wait because I know I wouldn’t be here to share it with you if you hadn’t had the courage to…”

Sean put his hand up to cover Orlando’s mouth and stop his words. “It didn’t take courage, just love.”

“Well I’m glad you loved me that much, because it means we are here and just about to start a whole new chapter in our lives together.”

“I couldn’t imagine a life without you.” Moving his hands to either side of Orlando’s face, Sean drew him closer for a soft kiss.

With a final look at Barra, Sean turned them both to face forward. The sea was as calm as a millpond and, with Orlando at his side, Sean watched as the two ferries headed towards the sunrise.


End file.
